HE  SPIRIT 

OF  AN 

ILLINOIS  TOWN 


BV 

M  A  RV  HART  WELL 
CATHERWOOD 


ALVMNVS  BOOK  FVND 


£363 


|)arttoeU 


THE    LADY  OF   FORT   ST.  JOHN.     A  Novel. 

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THE    SPIRIT   OF   AN    ILLINOIS   TOWN,   and 

THE  LITTLE  RENAULT.    Illustrated.    i6mo, 


HOUGHTON,  MIFFLIN  AND  COMPANY, 

BOSTON  AND  NEW  YORK. 


THE   IROQUOIS  ARROW.    (Page  131) 


THE  SPIRIT  OF  AN  ILLINOIS 
TOWN 

AND 

THE    LITTLE   RENAULT 

TWO  STORIES  OF  ILLINOIS 

AT  DIFFERENT 

PERIODS 

BY 

MARY  HARTWELL  CATHERWOOD 

WITH  ILLUSTRATIONS 


BOSTON    AND   NEW    YORK 
HOUGHTON,  MIFFLIN   AND  COMPANY 

@bt  ffifoetfibe  pre&,  Cambridge 
1897 


Copyright,  1897, 
BY  MARY  HARTWELL  CATHERWOOD. 

All  rights  reserved. 

/, 


The  Riverside  Press,  Cambridge  Mass.,  U.S.A. 
Electrotyped  and  Printed  by  H.  0.  Houghton  &  Co. 


CONTENTS. 


THE  SPIRIT  OF  AN  ILLINOIS  TOWN 
THE  LITTLE  RENAULT 


PAOK 
1 

,  109 


THE  SPIRIT 
OF  AN  ILLINOIS  TOWN. 


THE  SPIRIT  OF  AN  ILLINOIS 
TOWN. 


I. 

ON  THE  NOKTH   SIDE. 

THE  prairie  was  intersected  by  two  rail 
roads,  and  at  their  junction,  without  a  sin 
gle  natural  advantage,  the  town  sprang  up. 
Neither  lake  nor  stream,  neither  old  woods 
nor  diversity  of  hills,  lured  man's  enter 
prise  to  the  spot ;  nothing  but  the  bald  roll 
ing  prairie,  gorgeous,  if  you  rode  into  its 
distances,  with  scarlet  bunches  of  paint- 
lady,  small  yellow  sunflowers,  and  lavender 
asters,  and  acres  of  other  blooms.  In  yet 
undrained  slews  the  iris  flags  stood  in  ranks, 
and  at  a  passing  touch  millions  of  sensitive- 
plants  folded  their  lace  leaves  and  closed 
their  black  -  eyed  maize  -  colored  blossoms. 
By  such  tokens  it  was  early  autumn  the 


2          THE  SPlkl?  OFt  AN  ILLINOIS  TOWN. 

first  evening1  Sam '  Peevey  and  I  walked 
north  along  one  of  the  principal  streets  to 
our  new  boarding-house. 

"We  had  begun  by  sleeping  on  benches 
provided  for  visiting  subscribers  in  the 
sanctum  of  our  new  paper,  and  eating 
crackers  and  cheese  and  such  cheap  browse 
as  the  restaurants  afforded.  Sam  was  proud 
of  this,  and  intended  to  put  it  in  his  future 
political  speeches.  As  for  me,  I  was  ready 
for  anything  at  that  time.  But  our  news 
paper  had  so  prospered  that  we  could  now 
afford  to  live  in  a  house,  and  pay  a  woman 
who  kept  no  other  guests  a  modest  price  for 
boarding  us. 

Our  belongings  had  already  been  sent  to 
her  care,  and  we  hoped  the  drayload  would 
impress  her.  Sam  did  the  partnership  hop 
ing,  for  I  didn't  care  for  anything  in  the 
world.  The  street  along  which  we  walked 
to  our  new  experiences  had  been  a  Potta- 
watomie  trail  from  the  Great  Lakes;  and 
mindful  of  bygones,  the  founders  of  the 
town  called  it  on  their  map  Trail  Street. 


ON  THE  NORTH  SIDE.  3 

Further  justice  had  been  done  the  Potta- 
watomies,  and  their  forerunner  in  path-mak 
ing,  the  buffalo,  by  naming  the  town  Trail 
City.  Long  gaps  of  vacant  lots  still  showed 
between  buildings.  Shopping  women  had 
to  walk  half  a  mile  from  the  north  side  to  the 
south  side,  matching  samples.  It  was  the 
favorite  joke  of  merchants  in  this  direction 
to  bid  their  customers,  "  Give  us  a  call  on 
your  way  to  Chicago."  Some  still  thought 
the  supremacy  of  trade  might  be  wrested 
from  Main  Street  on  the  south  side,  but 
others  were  wavering  toward  that  thorough 
fare.  On  every  hand  were  scattering  houses, 
from  mansions  having  their  own  gas,  and 
their  water  propelled  by  gayly  painted  wind 
mills,  to  the  rudest  shelters  of  pine,  in  which 
lot-owners  tabernacled  until  they  could  do 
better;  every  man's  first  care  being  to 
secure  what  promised  to  be  the  most  valu 
able  location  he  could  command. 

Resin  weed,  strung  with  lumps  of  trans 
lucent  gum,  brushed  our  knees  at  the  edge 
of  the  sidewalk,  which  like  a  narrow  end- 


4          THE  SPIRIT  OF  AN  ILLINOIS  TOWN. 

less  bridge  carried  us  above  the  black  soil. 
This  causeway  let  directly  into  many  front 
rooms  where  the  functions  of  humble  life 
went  on  almost  in  public.  But  the  virgin 
town  was  still  untainted  with  deep  poverty 
or  vice.  It  had  kept  itself  entirely  free, 
Sam  informed  me,  from  that  American  in 
stitution  called  the  saloon,  so  different  from 
foreign  wineshops.  We  were  literally  walk 
ing  through  a  square  mile  of  Ohio  cheer, 
New  England  thrift  and  conscientiousness, 
Kentucky  hospitality,  New  York  far-sighted 
ness  with  capital  to  back  it,  and  native  Illi 
nois  grit.  The  very  air,  resinous  and  sweet, 
had  a  peculiar  tingle  that  a  man,  having 
once  felt,  cannot  forget.  Everybody  was 
going  to  succeed,  and  on  the  way  could  put 
up  with  a  few  inconveniences. 

The  sun,  a  plainly  defined  ball,  was  melt 
ing  away  in  its  own  radiance,  and  flattening 
as  it  melted,  just  above  the  horizon.  This 
unobstructed  setting  made  weird  and  long- 
shadowed  effects.  I  hung  back  to  see  it 
touch  ground  beyond  low  buildings.  Now 


ON  THE  NORTH  SIDE.  5 

it  was  half  gone  —  now  three  quarters ;  now 
it  was  a  disk  of  gold  —  a  quivering  thread 
of  fire  —  and  now  a  memory.  The  wan 
ness  of  sudden  twilight  stole  eastward.  The 
whole  wide  land  was  a  map.  A  freight- 
train  trailed  off  into  glorified  northern  prai 
rie.  The  town-herder  was  bringing  cows 
out  of  the  west,  and  we  could  hear  farmers' 
wagons  rattling  home  on  the  dry  autumnal 
plain.  Everybody  wore  a  satisfied  grin,  be 
cause  the  days  of  rattlesnake-fighting  were 
over  and  a  long-looked-for  millennium  had 
come.  Eastward,  on  a  billow  of  the  prairie, 
a  land  agent  with  his  swarm  of  followers 
could  be  seen  offering  lots.  Under  the 
clang  of  locomotive  bells  and  the  scattered 
noises  of  a  skeleton  corporation  came  the 
suction  hint  of  the  note  of  the  bull-goose  or 
thunder-pumper,  like  a  buried  village  work 
ing  its  pumps. 

There  were  a  great  many  passers,  for 
people  were  continually  walking  about  to 
gloat  over  the  promised  land,  and  brag,  — 
north  side,  south  side,  or  west  side;  the 


THE  SPIRIT  OF  AN  ILLINOIS  TO  WN. 

southwest  quarter  did  not  count,  being  re 
served  for  driving-parks,  manufactories,  and 
other  municipal  appendages. 

Sam  was  always  in  a  hurry,  but  he  let  me 
see  the  sunset  as  a  spectacle  of  local  value. 
Sam  was  broad  and  pink  and  muscular. 
He  had  been  the  athlete  of  our  class,  while 
I  was  only  the  poor  fellow  who  carried  off 
college  honors.  He  intended  to  go  in  for 
politics  from  the  ground  up.  Congress  was 
one  of  his  goals.  Congress  indorsed  you  for 
the  presidency,  or  any  other  job  that  came 
your  way  after  you  had  been  elected  town 
alderman.  Sam  put  a  great  deal  of  time 
into  what  he  called  making  himself  solid 
with  people  and  left  me  to  do  the  office 
work,  but  I  didn't  want  to  be  solid  with 
people.  The  only  endearing  characteristic 
of  the  town  was  its  Auiericanness.  The 
raw  land,  the  unfinish,  the  glad  rush,  the 
high,  clear  air,  the  jolly  insolence  of  inde 
pendent  human  beings,  —  how  American 
they  all  were  I  I  had  been  so  sick  for 
things  American.  In  Paris  it  had  seemed 


ON  THE  NORTH  SIDE.  7 

impossible  to  wait  until  the  ship  ferried 
me  over.  Gorgeous  autumn  colors  of  my 
country,  high  zenith  shining  as  no  other  sky 
shines,  clean  gladness  of  a  landscape  un- 
soaked  by  mediaeval  filth,  primitive  still,  but 
full  of  promise  that  no  words  can  set  forth, 
—  my  God!  how  my  soul  shouted  hallelu 
jah,  while  I  whizzed  through  in  a  dining-car, 
paying  five  prices  for  a  vile  breakfast  and 
rancid  butter !  If  a  man  could  always  be 
coming  home  from  Europe,  he  might  accom 
plish  something  by  the  mere  rise  of  his  spir 
its.  That  was  when  I  thought  I  could  begin 
again  where  I  had  left  off  six  years  before. 

"  I  'm  hungry,"  said  Sam.  "  And  we  're 
going  to  the  house  of  one  of  the  best  ama 
teur  cooks  in  Trail  City.  But  they  say  she 
has  a  falling  jaw,  and  we  don't  want  to  let 
it  drop  on  us.  She  's  a  holy  terror  over 
poor  Kate  Keene.  Why  don't  you  limber 
up,  Seth,  and  fascinate  folks  as  you  used  to 
before  you  went  abroad?  Travel's  taken 
all  the  life  out  of  you.  Six  years  more  of 
Europe  would  have  made  you  an  imbecile." 


8          THE  SPIRIT  OF  AN  ILLINOIS  TO  WN. 

"Who's  Kate  Keene?" 

"  You  did  n't  need  six  years  more ;  you  're 
an  imbecile  now.  Ever  since  you  dumped 
your  baggage  in  Trail  City  and  walked  into 
the  '  War  Path '  office,  you  've  had  the 
names  of  all  the  inhabitants  put  at  your 
pen's  end.  Who 's  Colonel  York  ?  Who 's 
Banker  Babcock?  I'll  make  you  a  little 
catechism." 

"  You  '11  make  me  an  apology.  You  are 
taking  an  unpopular  manner  with  me,  and 
may  lose  my  vote." 

"  Try  to  feel  a  little  interest  in  humanity 
around  you,  Seth,"  pleaded  Sam.  "  When 
Esther  comes  into  the  office  to  scrub,  you 
do  take  her  boy  on  your  knee,  and  notice 
her  and  even  her  confounded  crane." 

"Esther  comes  only  once  a  month.  If 
we  could  afford  to  have  her  of tener,  it  might 
exhaust  me." 

"  I  tell  you  it  isn't  liked,  Seth." 

I  laughed  because  he  could  think  that 
would  make  any  difference  to  me. 

"  Some  of  the  finest  families  in  the  United 


ON  THE  NORTH  SIDE.  9 

States  have  gathered  to  this  town,"  blus 
tered  Sam.  "Lucia  and  Alice  York  and 
Teresa  Babcock,  —  where  will  you  find  pret 
tier  girls?  And  if  you  look  at  externals, 
there'll  be  plenty  of  people  sitting  down 
to  well-served  dinners  when  we  sit  down  to 
supper." 

"  I  don't  look  at  externals." 

"  I  wish  you  did.  For  a  fellow  that  works 
like  a  horse,  you  take  confounded  little  no 
tice  of  what 's  around  you.  Now,  we  ought 
to  be  laying  our  plans  to  get  hold  of  some 
of  this  land  while  it 's  comparatively  cheap. 
It'll  be  worth  a  hundred  dollars  an  acre 
some  time.  Rich,  black,  deep  "  — 

"  Up  to  a  man's  knees,"  said  I. 

"  Or  a  mule's,"  assented  Sam.  "  And  we 
want  some.  You  had  a  fortune  when  you 
left  college."  He  gave  me  that  cast  of  the 
eye  with  which  he  always  approached  this 
subject.  It  was  almost  a  compensation  to 
me  for  the  loss  of  my  fortune  to  see  how 
defrauded  Sam  felt. 

"If  I  had  it  now,  would  I  be  here?  " 


10       THE  SPIRIT  OF  AN  ILLINOIS  TOWN. 

"  But  how  could  you  run  through  with  it 
—  all?" 

"  Same  old  way." 

"  You  had  fifty  thousand  dollars." 

"  And  you  '11  come  back  at  me  fifty  thou 
sand  times  to  make  me  account  for  every 
doUar  of  it." 

"  You  ought  to  account  to  somebody." 

"  That 's  been  one  of  my  fatal  troubles, 
Sam:  there  was  no  one  for  me  to  account 
to,  —  no  father,  mother,  brother,  or  sister." 

"  I  'd  be  a  brother  to  you  and  show  you 
where  to  put  it  now,  if  you  had  it.  I  don't 
understand  how  you  let  foreigners  rob  you 
so ;  you  're  no  profligate.  Buying  old  books 
and  old  pictures  is  n't  absolute  drunken 
ness." 

I  never  excused  myself  to  Sam  or  helped 
him  to  better  understanding  of  my  affairs. 
We  were  partners,  with  all  we  both  had 
staked  in  our  little  printing-house,  and  I  had 
dropped  into  that  place  when  I  came  back 
because  it  was  the  first  thing  that  offered. 
When  Sam  had<given  me  a  thought,  he  went 
on:  — 


ON  THE  NORTH  SIDE.  11 

"  Poor  Keene,  his  profligacy  was  absolute 
drunkenness.  We  came  here  to  start  the 
paper  together.  I  did  n't  know  as  much  as 
I  do  now.  I  had  been  rubbing  around  at 
different  jobs  four  or  five  years,  trying  to 
study  law  and  one  thing  or  another,  without 
enough  money  to  live  on,  and  dabbling  with 
newspapers  all  the  time.  In  six  months 
Keene  had  us  sold  out,  and  he  was  in  the 
gutter.  So  I  tried  it  again  alone.  He  was 
as  bright  a  fellow  as  you  are,  but  he  could  n't 
be  kept  steady.  We  opened  the  new  grave 
yard  with  him  just  before  you  came.  He 
never  did  a  more  distinguished  thing  than 
plant  his  carcass  on  that  slope.  We  made 
an  occasion  of  it,  like  laying  a  corner-stone. 
Poor  Kate !  He  left  her  without  a  cent  in 
the  world,  and  without  a  relation  except  this 
half-aunt.  I  should  say  she  was  literally 
on  her  wits;  and  she  needs  them,  to  get 
on  with  Mrs.  Jutberg.  Jutberg  is  a  Swede, 
well-to-do,  but  probably  the  most  regretful 
Swede  that  ever  was  in  a  hurry  to  marry  an 
American  woman.  I  never  saw  him  do  any- 


12       THE  SPIRIT  OF  AN  ILLINOIS  TOWN. 

thing  but  follow  his  wife  submissively  into 
church.  But  she  has  religious  ecstasies,  and 
they  tell  this  story  of  him :  One  night  he  sat 
watching  Mrs.  Jutberg  in  disgust  while  she 
paraded  the  aisles  shouting,  '  I  want  to  be  a 
burden-bearer ! '  and  the  next  morning  he 
refused  to  carry  any  coal  into  the  house  for 
her.  '  Get  on  to  dat  burden  yourself,'  Jut- 
berg  says.  '  You  vas  so  sveet  on  burdens,  I 
let  you  bear  dat  one.' " 

Any  but  homeless  men  might  have  en 
tered  Mrs.  Jutberg's  sphere  apprehensively. 
The  two  or  three  weeks  I  had  camped  in 
the  office  with  Sam  separated  me  from  my 
former  life,  and  the  square,  roomy  house 
typified  a  return  to  civilization.  From  the 
porch  inward  one  was  impressed  by  exquisite 
rigorous  housekeeping.  An  odor  of  roses 
sifted  about.  There  was  not  a  speck  of  dust 
on  the  furniture  or  on  the  framed  hair-flow 
ers  and  ancient  sampler-work  in  the  parlor. 
I  wondered  if  the  orphan  Kate  Keene  held 
levees  of  youthful  people  in  this  little  salon. 
She  was  nowhere  to  be  seen,  and  neither  was 


ON  THE  NORTH  SIDE.  13 

there  any  visible  servant.  Mrs.  Jutberg 
received  us  with  brisk  dispatch.  She  was 
a  small  woman,  of  excellent  trim  figure, 
though  I  thought  her  sallow  face  a  sullen 
one.  Her  teeth  were  large  and  broad.  With 
unusual  scrutiny  I  detected  a  looseness 
about  the  lower  part  of  her  face,  which 
seemed  thrown  on  its  own  support.  But 
when  you  are  predisposed  against  a  person, 
and  find  that  person  a  quick-footed  and 
capable  domestic  angel,  small  minor  imper 
fections  go  for  nothing.  Our  rooms  had 
the  sweetness  of  lavender  in  the  sheets.  My 
box  of  books  had  been  opened  and  arranged 
on  standing  shelves  by  some  one  who  knew 
their  value.  I  had  a  comfortable  feeling  in 
the  house,  such  as  I  thought  I  should  never 
have  again  in  the  world. 

Sam  and  I  sat  down  in  state  with  the 
Swedish  host  in  the  dining-room,  and  the 
hostess  herself  served  us. 

"  Good  -  evening,  yentlemens,"  he  said, 
holding  knife  and  fork  upright  in  his  fists  ; 
and  I  thought  he  was  a  dear  blue-eyed  old 


14      THE  SPIRIT  OF  AN  ILLINOIS  TO  WN. 

fellow  who  would  appreciate  sitting  and 
smoking  in  silence  with  a  companion  after 
meals.  Sam  gormandized  on  broiled  prairie 
chicken  and  talked  all  the  time,  but  the 
fragrance  of  the  tea  floated  Mr.  Jutberg  and 
myself  into  a  smiling,  unspoken  friendship. 
It  was  a  meal  to  set  a  man  on  Mount  Olym 
pus,  Sam  said,  becoming  heartily  solid  with 
Mrs.  Jutberg,  who  appeared  distrustful  of 
the  praises  of  men's  mouths,  yet  exacting  of 
appreciation.  It  did  indeed  mark  a  new  era 
after  bread  and  cheese  and  restaurant  stuff, 
and  there  was  no  restraining  the  vigor  it  put 
into  Sam.  He  rushed  forth,  as  soon  as  he 
rose  from  the  table,  into  the  dusk  streets, 
where  the  kerosene  lamps  were  yet  unlighted, 
to  further  cultivate  the  influence  of  woman, 
or  pursue  patrons  for  advertising,  or  talk 
his  kind  of  politics,  or  continue  what  he 
called  hustling  along  the  development  of 
the  town. 

I  was  used  to  Sam's  desertions  in  the  even 
ing,  for  we  never  went  in  the  same  direction 
if  we  walked,  and  often  I  lighted  a  lamp  in 


ON  THE  NORTH  SIDE.  15 

the  office  and  read  or  wrote,  beetles  and 
evening  street  noises  buzzing  up  from  the 
sidewalks.  The  discipline  on  the  sanctum 
benches  made  me  look  forward  to  a  bed 
with  gratitude  that  astonished  me,  and  the 
very  best  preparation  for  such  bliss  seemed 
a  smoke  on  the  porch  with  Mr.  Jutberg. 
So  we  sat  down,  with  our  feet  on  the  top 
step,  he  and  his  pipe,  and  I  and  one  of  my 
treasured  cigars. 

"  I  vas  not  a  feller  dat  talk  much  ven  I 
smoke,"  remarked  Mr.  Jutberg  before  each 
man  sunk  into  his  own  sweet  trance  ;  and  I 
responded,  "  The  same." 

His  gentle  Swedish  monotone  was  more 
soothing  than  his  tobacco.  The  sky  seemed 
to  let  its  stars  down  almost  within  reach, 
and  over  eastern  hummocks  we  could  watch 
the  unobstructed  rising  of  constellations. 
There  was  no  light  in  the  house  except  in 
the  kitchen,  at  the  end  of  the  hall  behind  us. 
We  could  hear  the  tinkle  of  dishes  being 
washed  and  set  on  shelves,  and  by  turning 
our  heads  could  see  Mrs.  Jutberg  and  an- 


16      THE  SPIRIT  OF  AN  ILLINOIS  TOWN. 

other  figure  passing  back  and  forth.  I 
wondered  if  the  two  women  of  the  house  ate 
in  secret,  and  like  the  priests  of  the  oracles 
performed  their  feats  by  hidden  machinery  ? 
After  my  life  of  fierce  and  sickening  pas 
sion  these  saltless  doings  were  infinitely 
peaceful. 

There  had  not  been  an  audible  word 
spoken  in  the  house,  when  the  clamor  of  a 
shrew  began,  almost  lifting  Mr.  Jutberg  and 
me,  like  a  powder  explosion,  from  the  top 
step.  He  turned  toward  me,  pipe  in  mouth, 
his  face  drawn  back  in  apprehensive  hori 
zontal  lines.  I  began  a  Latin  quotation  un 
der  my  breath,  but  the  terrible  words  of  that 
incensed  woman  could  not  be  shut  out.  Her 
voice  soared  and  spread,  and  must  have 
filled  the  air  for  several  blocks.  I  have 
heard  hysterical  cries,  but  never  anything 
so  like  the  shrieking  of  a  human  beast.  The 
mire  of  Billingsgate  market  and  its  red- 
faced  fishwives  at  once  came  into  my  mind. 
Could  any  one  have  imagined  this  trim, 
pleasant-spoken,  and  skilled  American  wo- 


ON  THE  NORTH  SIDE.  17 

man  was  such  a  devil  ?  The  opinion  of 
neighbors  was  no  check  on  Mrs.  Jutberg. 
She  called  her  young  relation  names.  The 
insanity  of  her  anger  being  restrained  by 
nothing  but  religion,  she  doomed  the  poor 
girl  to  fire  and  flame,  which  is  the  second 
death  and  a  well-deserved  one. 

I  saw  a  figure  dart  across  the  lighted 
space  with  its  hands  over  its  ears,  and  Mrs. 
Jutberg  pursued  it.  It  was  then  that  her 
shrewish  face  worked  in  a  spasm.  The 
muscles  struggled  ineffectually  while  she 
chewed  air  with  dreadful  mouthings  and 
contortions  of  the  countenance,  and  beck 
oned  to  us  with  imperative  hand.  I  leaped 
up,  convinced  that  the  woman  was  in  a  fit, 
but  Mr.  Jutberg  shook  the  ashes  deliber 
ately  out  of  his  pipe. 

"  It  vas  netting  but  her  yaw  come  un- 
yointed,"  he  explained  in  gentle  monotone. 
"  I  put  it  up  again.  But,  by  Vashin'tons 
and  all  dem  big  fellers !  it  vas  better  out  of 
yoint  dan  it  vas  in." 

The  girl's  hand  was  stretched  forth  to 


18      TEE  SPIRIT  OF  AN  ILLINOIS  TOWN. 

help  Mrs.  Jutberg,  but  Mrs.  Jutberg  slapped 
at  it.  My  friend  arose,  straightening  his 
stiffened  limbs,  and  went  in  to  the  rescue. 
At  my  distance  I  thought  I  heard  a  slight 
click  which  might  signify  that  his  surgery 
was  effectual.  Mrs.  Jutberg  worked  her  jaw 
up  and  down,  recovering  command  of  it ; 
and  then,  without  a  word  to  acknowledge  his 
services,  she  turned  her  back  and  went  into 
darkness  at  the  rear  of  the  house.  We 
heard  a  door  slam.  Her  husband  took  his 
hat  from  the  hall  and  passed  me,  with  an 
apology  for  our  interrupted  smoke. 

"  I  yust  valk  out  behind  her  aviles  and 
keep  her  in  sight.  It  make  her  so  mad  ven 
her  yaw  come  unyointed  she  not  stay  in  de 
house  aviles,  but  go  out  and  valk  de  streets 
in  her  sunbonnet.  Seem  like  ven  I  put  it 
up  she  blame  me  because  it  come  down." 

I  shared  Mr.  Jutberg's  feeling  of  uneasi 
ness  and  responsibility  because  Mrs.  Jutberg 
could  no  longer  bear  to  be  in  the  house  with 
us.  The  long  streets,  safe  though  poorly 
lighted,  would  lead  her  past  much  jollity  and 


ON  THE  NORTH  SIDE.  19 

banjo  and  guitar  playing.  Nearly  every 
body  was  young  and  happy. 

I  thought  it  a  pity  that  Protestant 
churches  never  keep  open  doors  for  weary 
and  passion-tormented  souls,  as  the  Catholic 
church  does.  Toilers  who  left  their  work 
for  a  minute's  prayer  in  the  cathedral  were 
a  common  sight  abroad ;  and  the  dim  light 
and  holy  silence  must  have  done  a  lurid 
spirit  like  Mrs.  Jutberg  much  good.  There 
was  a  wide  sprinkling  of  variously  housed 
denominations  all  over  town.  Every  man 
had  put  his  hand  in  his  pocket  to  help  the 
churches,  and  none  more  generously  than 
the  banker,  Mr.  Babcock,  until  he  called  a 
halt  with  sudden  thought. 

"  Look  here,  boys !  We  '11  have  the 
preachers  of  all  these  churches  to  keep  by 
and  by.  Let  up  on  subscriptions.  We 
won't  build  any  more." 

I  had  smoked  out  my  cigar  and  thrown 
the  stump  away,  when  it  occurred  to  me 
what  guileless  people  these  were  to  leave 
their  young  relation  alone  in  the  house  with 


20      THE  SPIRIT  OF  AN  ILLINOIS  TOWN. 

a  stranger.  Ashamed  of  the  thought  be 
cause  it  was  un-American,  I  rose  to  go  to 
bed,  when  we  met  in  the  hall.  The  young 
girl  was  carrying  a  lamp.  There  was  no 
back  stairway  in  the  house,  I  understood 
afterwards,  and  the  kitchen  lamp  was  the 
only  one  she  was  allowed  to  make  use  of. 
It  was  clean  and  bright  as  the  flambeaux  of 
the  wise  virgins,  showing  her  face  and  brown 
hair,  and  her  black  dress,  short  like  a  little 
girl's  around  the  ankles.  She  was  lithe  and 
long-bodied,  with  an  undulous  motion  as  she 
walked,  which  struck  me  as  the  perfection 
of  young  grace.  I  did  not  expect  to  find 
anything  perfect  in  Mrs.  Jutberg's  relation, 
though  I  was  as  indifferently  sorry  for  the 
lot  of  the  unprotected  creature  as  I  could  be 
for  anything. 

We  stopped,  —  I  to  give  her  the  right  of 
way  up  the  stairs,  and  she  in  humility  to  de 
cline  it.  The  sickening  shame  which  the 
young  experience  when  their  guardians  de 
grade  themselves  made  her  avoid  my  eyes. 
I  knew  instantly  that  one  of  her  ideals  of 


ON  THE  NORTH  SIDE.  21 

life  was  high  breeding,  —  daughter  of  a 
drunkard  and  niece  of  a  scold ! 

I  said,  "  Good  -  evening,"  and  she  an 
swered,  "  Good-evening." 

"Adams,  one  of  Mrs.  Jutberg's  board 
ers,"  I  mentioned,  to  quiet  any  misappre 
hension. 

"Yes,  I  know." 

"  I  'in  going  upstairs  too.  Shall  I  carry 
the  lamp  for  you  ?  " 

She  gave  it  to  me ;  but  with  a  touching 
swiftness  which  moistened  my  own  eyes,  she 
turned  against  the  stair-side  and  burst  out 
crying. 

"  Oh,  come,  now,"  I  objected,  "  don't  do 
that." 

I  looked  around  and  set  the  lamp  on  a 
step.  It  threw  our  shadows  across  the  nar 
row  passage,  but  I  put  my  length  in  front  of 
her  as  a  screen  from  the  street.  Her  slim 
sides  expanded  and  contracted  with  the 
effort  she  made  to  hold  her  sobs.  That 
helpless  crying  into  which  a  visibly  brave 
creature  fell  cut  me  up.  I  did  not  know 


22      TEE  SPIRIT  OF  AN  ILLINOIS  TOWN. 

how  to  comfort  her;  but  I  could  have 
brought  her  Mrs.  Jutberg's  jaw  on  a  salver. 

"  Never  mind,"  I  said ;  "  I  don't  believe 
anybody  heard  but  myself,  and  it  makes  no 
difference,  anyway." 

The  girl  began  to  laugh,  and  lifted  her 
head,  though  tears  ran  down  her  clear 
cheeks.  "  It  was  n't  that." 

"  What  was  it  then  ?  " 

"  Oh,  you  look  like  my  father  —  you  look 
like  my  father !  "  She  flung  herself  against 
the  stair-side  and  sobbed  again. 

This  was  flattering  to  a  man  who  had 
had  some  measure  of  success :  I  looked  like 
a  sot,  the  opener  of  the  new  cemetery,  the 
mortuary  corner-stone,  so  to  speak,  of  Trail 
City.  I  passed  my  hand  through  the  thin 
layer  of  hair  on  my  cadaverous  head,  being 
unable  to  hit  on  any  suitable  response. 

Her  second  fit  of  weeping  was  short,  and 
she  dried  her  face,  showing  the  freshest 
innocence  I  had  ever  seen  on  a  human  coun 
tenance.  The  guilelessness  of  childhood 
was  supplemented  by  something  like  a  high 


ON  THE  NORTH  SIDE.  23 

spiritual  brightness  which  gave  her  an  intent 
and  all-alive  look.  Among  chance  comings 
of  children  into  this  world,  I  divined,  what 
ever  her  parentage  had  been,  that  hers  was 
a  happy  chance.  She  attracted  the  material 
needful  to  make  her  life. 

"My  father  has  only  been  dead  a  few 
months.  I  haven't  got  used  to  it  yet." 

"  He  left  you  here,  did  he?  "  I  remarked, 
making  a  case  against  the  man  I  resem 
bled. 

"  Only  until  I  am  eighteen.  After  I  am 
eighteen  I  may  go  where  I  please." 

"  He  made  that  provision  for  you  ?  " 

"  He  only  told  me  to  stay  until  I  was  of 
age ;  and  I  will  do  as  he  told  me." 

"  Perhaps  he  thought  you  would  be  taking 
a  husband  by  that  time." 

"  No,  indeed.  I  am  never  going  to 
marry.  My  father  told  me  not  to." 

"He  was  a  man  of  sense,"  I  admitted, 
feeling  more  reconciled  to  the  resemblance. 

"  He  was  the  best  man  in  the  world. 
Other  people  have  bad  faults,  but  he  had 


24      THE  SPIRIT  OF  AN  ILLINOIS  TOWN. 

only  one  little  weakness.  You  don't  know 
what  my  father  was  to  me.  I  miss  him"  — 
She  stopped,  catching  her  lip  in  her  teeth. 

The  forcible  reminder  which  I  had  been 
of  this  good  man  for  the  first  time  suggested 
itself  as  an  advantage.  A  differentiation, 
impalpable  as  air,  set  the  child  apart  to  me, 
and  gave  me  some  hold  on  the  only  friend 
ship  I  felt  moved  to  seek.  I  was  possessed 
to  let  out  my  story,  which  had  cost  lying 
to  keep  from  American  ears,  to  a  person 
I  had  talked  with  five  minutes.  Sam  had 
labored  on  me  incessantly,  and  closed  me 
up  tighter  all  the  time  ;  and  for  backing  he 
had  our  college  years.  This  girl  was  not 
acquainted  with  my  kind  of  grief.  It  was 
in  fact  unfit  to  mention  to  her.  You  knew 
by  instinct  she  was  the  species  of  innocent 
who  might  stand  in  the  thick  of  intrigue 
and  never  see  it,  keeping  company  with 
holy  angels  all  the  time.  But  I  felt  sure 
she  could  help  me  with  my  intolerable  load 
just  as  she  defended  her  father's  little  weak 
ness. 


ON  TEE  NORTH  SIDE.  25 

I  took  up  the  lamp  and  rested  it  on  the 
flat  newel,  detaining  her  when  she  would 
have  continued  up  the  stairs. 

"  I  wish  you  would  sometimes  call  me 
father.  Not  openly,  I  mean — but  some 
times.  I  had  a  child  of  my  own,  and  he 
died.  I  think  of  him  day  and  night,  like  a 
woman." 

"  But  where  is  the  child's  mother?  " 

"That  is  what  I  have  asked  myself  a 
great  many  times,"  I  said  deliberately. 
" '  Where  is  the  child's  mother  ? '  And  the 
only  satisfactory  answer  I  could  ever  give 
was,  'Damn  the  child's  mother.'  She  left 
her  little  sick  boy  with  me,  and  she  left  me 
because  she  had  impoverished  me.  But  the 
boy,  he  was  old  enough  to  call  me  father, 
and  I  should  like  —  to  hear  the  word  once 
in  a  while." 

My  young  confessor  took  hold  of  a  narrow 
ribbon  and  drew  a  packet  out  of  her  bosom, 
her  wide  and  solemn  eyes  transfixing  me 
while  she  prepared  to  exchange  confidences. 
From  the  packet  she  unfolded  a  paper,  and 


26      THE  SPIRIT  OF  AN  ILLINOIS  TOWN. 

gave  into  my  hand  her  father's  last  will  and 
testament.     I  read  it  by  the  lamplight. 

Kate,  my  child,  you  are  the  only  thing 
that  excuses  me  for  ever  having  lived.  I 
want  you  to  make  a  success  of  life,  my  girl. 
Do  it  for  me.  Cover  my  failure.  Don't 
idolize  anybody,  Kate,  but  be  friends  with 
all.  Be  cautious  about  men ;  some  of  them 
are  worse  even  than  I  am. 

It's  a  battle,  my  child,  getting  through 
the  world.  The  people  you  see  best  off  have 
their  fights  as  well  as  the  rest  of  us.  But  if 
you  get  through  with  credit,  think  what  it 
will  be  to  your  mother  and  me.  For  God's 
sake,  Kate,  my  love,  do  your  best ;  and  if 
they  let  a  fellow  out  on  the  other  side,  I  will 
watch  you  night  and  day.  Your 

FATHER. 

I  gave  her  back  the  paper,  and  she  folded 
and  returned  it  to  its  place.  By  one  im 
pulse  we  then  shook  hands,  feeling  that  we 
had  made  a  compact  of  friendship. 


ON  THE  NORTH  SIDE.  27 

She  said,  "  You  may  call  me  Kate." 

I  said,  "  My  name  is  Seth." 

We  stood  with  our  eyes  cast  down,  as  be 
came  the  importance  of  the  moment. 

"  Well,  good-night,"  said  Kate.  "  Good 
night—father." 

"  Good-night,  Kate." 

I  gave  her  the  lamp  and  turned  again  to 
the  porch,  where  I  sat  until  Sam  came 
home. 


n. 

ON  THE  WEST  SIDE. 

FRIENDSHIP  between  man  and  woman  is 
so  little  tolerated  or  understood  in  our  coun 
try  that  I  avoided  giving  Trail  City  any  oc 
casion  to  call  me  Kate  Keene's  suitor.  She 
herself  had  an  instinct  against  lovers,  so 
singular  in  a  maid  of  her  age  that  it  was 
talked  about.  But  she  had  an  equally  strong 
instinct  for  comradery,  and  every  soul  in  the 
place  was  bound  to  Kate  Keene  by  some  in 
visible  cord. 

In  the  dark  of  every  morning  I  heard 
her  slip  downstairs  to  begin  her  daily  tasks. 
How  hard  these  tasks  were  I  do  not  know, 
the  domestic  machinery  never  appearing, 
though  for  a  fortnight  after  our  compact  I 
had  mere  glimpses  of  her.  I  took  to  select 
ing  books  from  my  shelves,  and  leaving 
them  with  the  conspicuous  appeal  "  Read  " 


ON  THE  WEST  SIDE.  29 

on  my  table.  They  might  or  might  not  be 
appropriated  by  Mrs.  Jutberg.  But  the 
venture  proved  lucky,  as  a  small  marker 
lettered  "Kate,"  forgotten  in  one  of  the 
returned  books,  convinced  me. 

Autumn  glooms  and  howling  winds  came 
on.  The  sodden  prairie  was  raw  and  hor 
rible,  worse  than  a  steamer-deck  in  a  fog. 
Above  seas  of  black  and  waxy  mud  rushed 
a  river  of  wind,  drowning  human  hope.  In 
this  bleakness  everything  took  a  trivial  and 
contemptible  guise.  One  said  to  himself, 
"  What  are  these  fools  doing  out  on  an  open 
plain?  Why  don't  they  hunt  shelter?" 
My  life  hung  so  torpidly  on  me,  I  thought 
every  day  of  suicide.  If  there  was  ever  man 
or  woman  born  into  this  world  who  won 
through  it  without  feeling  sometimes  im 
pelled  to  take  the  old  pagan  short  cut  out, 
that  man  or  woman  must  have  been  a  stupid 
brute.  Like  the  sender  of  anonymous  let 
ters,  the  incipient  suicide  is  often  the  person 
you  least  suspect.  I  did  my  work ;  and  my 
daily  bread  was  something  to  be  thankful 


30      THE  SPIRIT  OF  AN  ILLINOIS  TOWN. 

for.  But  the  dead  level  of  that  plain  and 
its  pursuing  blackness  were  too  typical. 

On  some  days  I  could  not  put  out  of  my 
mind  a  sodden  and  neglected  little  grave  in 
a  foreign  churchyard,  undecorated  by  the 
beaded  flowers  and  wreaths  and  crowns 
which  defied  weather  and  memorialized  grief 
around  it.  A  farmer  leading  his  freckle- 
nosed  boy  by  the  hand  was  a  taunting  re 
minder  that  some  wretches  are  denied  the 
commonest  comforts  of  the  commonest  lot. 

Then  I  began  to  think  of  winter  rime  on 
European  villages.  Paris,  London,  Rome, 
Florence,  called  me,  with  all  their  art  treas 
ures,  all  their  variety  of  life  in  which  a 
man  might  lose  himself.  Homesickness  for 
things  American  passed  into  astonishment 
that  man  is  held  to  his  own  place  on  earth 
by  a  cord  he  cannot  break  even  in  a  migra 
tory  age.  His  life  seems  kneaded  into  that 
land,  and  he  longs  for  it  when  he  is  away 
with  a  reasonless  passion  that  has  nothing 
to  do  with  its  adaptability  to  his  physical 
health  or  the  building  of  his  fortunes.  But 


ON  THE  WEST  SIDE.  31 

I  was  too  poor  to  turn  eastward  again.  The 
petty  treadmill  of  a  country  newspaper  had 
me  for  its  automatic  motor. 

It  was  surprising  to  see  what  interest  Sam 
took  in  the  thing.  Nothing  pleased  him  bet 
ter  than  leading  a  crowd  of  old  rattlesnake 
fighters  in  to  see  our  type ;  and  when  we 
hazarded  a  small  steam-plant  in  place  of  the 
old  hand-press,  and  began  to  feel  our  way 
to  a  daily,  he  was  as  wild  as  a  Pottawatomie. 

The  whole  town  rushed  like  a  comet  along 
the  plane  of  improvement.  Its  local  politi 
cal  spirit  was  intense.  The  salary  of  mayor 
and  aldermen  was  fixed  rigidly  at  fifty  cents 
per  head  a  year.  When  a  man  was  nomi 
nated  for  one  of  these  offices,  however,  he 
poured  out  his  own  private  means  like  water 
on  the  expenses  of  an  election  rather  than 
suffer  the  odium  of  defeat.  The  town  had 
contempt  for  any  one  who  failed  in  any  way 
to  "get  there." 

Feuds  and  cross  -  purposes  existed,  but 
these  were  all  new  and  swiftly  changing, 
like  the  clouds  over  the  prairie.  No  families 


32      THE  SPIRIT  OF  AN  ILLINOIS  TO  WN. 

had  hereditary  enemies.  By  the  time  Sam 
had  me  adjusted  to  the  fact  that  Colonel 
York  and  Mr.  Babcock  were  in  a  furious 
tug  over  grain  elevators  or  the  placing  of  the 
school  funds,  they  had  passed  again  through 
the  amicable  process  which  he  called  kissing 
and  making  up.  We  had  to  steer  our  bark 
very  carefully  among  breakers,  and  lean  to 
this  side  or  that  with  discretion ;  but  Sam 
had  the  discretion  and  did  the  leaning. 

Many  good  fellows  thought  I  was  sickly, 
and  came  into  the  office  to  cheer  me  up. 
One  jolly,  roseate  old  rascal,  with  tufts  of 
hair  like  wool  above  his  ears,  swapped  daily 
jokes  about  his  nomination  for  county  cor 
oner. 

44  You  '11  give  me  employment  if  I  get 
there,"  said  he. 

"But  why  do  you  want  to  sit  on  such 
objects  as  I  am  ?  " 

"  Well,  I  '11  tell  you,  editor :  my  aim  is  to 
get  into  some  business  where  there  won't  be 
any  more  kicking.  Now,  the  man  I  deal 
with  as  coroner  won't  kick  :  he  can't.  His 


ON  THE  WEST  SIDE.  33 

friends  won't :  the  State  pays  the  expenses, 
I  'm  getting  on,  and  peaceful,  soothing  em 
ployment  like  this  is  what  I  want  for  my 
old  age." 

Sometimes  the  conviction  stung  me  that 
I  was  wasting  my  prime  in  this  eddy,  with 
people  whose  thoughts  could  never  be  iden 
tical  with  mine.  "  It  is  not  my  place,"  my 
soul  said.  Every  morning  when  I  rose,  the 
sickening  distaste  swept  over  me.  And  a 
man  who  submits  to  disadvantage  maims  his 
own  spirit.  Yet  there  I  lay  prostrate,  like 
a  tangled  horse,  who  after  vain  efforts  to 
rise  sinks  flat,  with  his  head  on  the  paving. 
And  suppose  I  did  stand  on  my  feet  once 
more,  for  whom  should  I  do  anything  ?  All 
around  were  men  with  set  faces  and  tense 
purpose,  their  eyes  fixed  on  better  futures 
for  their  children  and  an  old  age  of  plenty. 
I  could  work  with  mechanical  execution, 
but  not  as  a  creative  mind. 

Blessed  is  that  transcriber  with  electrical 
touch  who  makes  his  page  crackle  and 
sparkle  at  the  very  points  where  we  might 


34      THE  SPIRIT  OF  AN  ILLINOIS  TOWN. 

blindly  miss  the  meaning.  So  much  that 
happens  to  us  seems  not  worth  setting  down. 
I  have  tallied  these  blank  days  as  they  were 
tallied  against  me.  I  simply  lost  them  with 
out  living.  Sallow  northern  light  fell  across 
my  page  while  I  wrote,  and  rain  drove 
against  our  office  windows.  Esther,  our 
periodical  scrub-woman,  progressed  on  her 
knees  as  far  as  my  chair ;  and  when  I  had 
to  move,  her  infant  nephew,  whom  she  called 
"buddy,"  —  a  contraction  of  "brother,"  — 
always  improved  the  opportunity  to  get  on 
my  lap.  She  kept  him  very  clean,  and  of 
this  I  was  glad,  on  his  adoption  of  me.  The 
smell  of  dirty  little  boy  on  a  wet  day  sur 
passes  every  other  rankness.  His  pet  and 
constant  follower,  a  sand-hill  crane  of  bluish- 
gray  plumage,  would  stalk  after  him  and 
stand  beside  the  desk,  stretching  himself  up 
to  overtop  me  as  I  sat,  or  stooping  deject 
edly  to  forage  in  the  waste-basket.  Esther 
told  me  she  had  sometimes  seen  cranes  dan 
cing  real  quadrilles  at  the  edge  of  a  slew ; 
and  the  stately  manners  of  this  one,  whose 


ON  THE  WEST  SIDE.  35 

name  was  Jimmy,  testified  to  some  breeding. 
But  he  had  been  caught  young,  and  deprived 
of  courtly  example  at  the  very  time  when 
lank  leg  and  neck  were  developing  to  the 
utmost,  so  he  lacked  the  wild  grace  of  his 
ancestors,  and  knocked  things  over  with  his 
feet,  and  convulsively  tried  to  swallow  what 
ever  he  could  pick  up  with  his  bill. 

Seeing  that  I  regarded  Jimmy  without  the 
animosity  which  was  so  often  his  portion, 
Esther  explained  :  "  I  named  him  after  my 
brother  that  was  consumpted  and  died.  My 
brother  used  to  go  steppin'  around  slow,  with 
his  hands  in  his  pockets,  somethin'  like  a 
crane.  Jimmy  is  a  comfort  to  me,  if  he 
does  dirty  the  floors  and  chaw  clothes  on  the 
line.  It  takes  hard  work  to  support  my 
brother's  children,  now  he  's  gone.  But  you 
ought  to  seen  the  style  they  used  to  put  on. 
His  wife  had  as  much  as  seven  hundred  dol 
lars  left  to  her.  I  never  got  none  of  it :  it 
come  from  her  folks.  And  she  did  n't  save 
a  cent  of  that  money.  I  wanted  them  to  get 
a  home.  But  all-wools  was  n't  too  good  for 


36      THE  SPIRIT  OF  AN  ILLINOIS  TO  WN. 

them  then.  How  that  family  did  dress ! 
And  they  went  into  s'ciety  and  spent  it  all. 
Now  she  's  a  widow,  with  five  children  for 
her  and  me  to  keep,  and  she  can't  do  much." 

"  Were  you  never  married  yourself, 
Esther  ?  "  I  inquired. 

"  Oh,  yes,"  she  responded  cheerfully,  lift 
ing  a  liver-colored  face  in  which  pleasant 
eyes  were  set,  "two  or  three  times.  But 
nary  one  was  any  account.  So  I  turned 
them  off,  and  took  in  my  brother's  folks." 

Jimmy  the  crane,  having  begun  hopefully 
on  a  ball  of  twine  in  the  waste-basket  while 
Esther  talked,  now  caught  her  eye  and  re 
pented.  He  offered  no  resistance  to  disgorg 
ing  when  Esther  picked  up  the  remainder 
of  the  ball  to  unwind  him,  and  she  on  her 
part  brought  link  after  link  of  cord  from 
his  midst,  until  it  seemed  that  Jimmy's  in 
testines  were  being  spun  forth  through  his 
open  bill.  Having  parted  with  the  end  of 
the  twine,  —  which  I  pressed  upon  Esther's 
acceptance,  as  we  no  longer  needed  it  in  the 
office, — Jimmy  shook  his  wings,  and  uttered 


ON  THE  WEST  SIDE.  37 

a  resigned  plaintive  sound  which  might  be 
interpreted  "  Koort." 

"Jimmy's  a  great  hand  for  string,"  re 
marked  Esther ;  "  and  he  miscalculates 
about  what  he  eats  like  folks  miscalculate 
about  other  things.  Folks  does  a  heap  of 
things  there  ain't  no  need  of.  My  mother, 
she  used  to  part  us  children's  hair  on  the 
side  instead  of  in  the  middle ;  she  said  she 
wanted  to  save  the  middle  partin'  till  we 
.was  growed,  so  it  would  be  new  and  nice. 
But  now  it  ain't  the  fashion  for  women  to 
part  their  hair  at  all,  and  I  might  as  well 
have  saved  myself  from  bein'  laughed  at  so 
much  at  school.  I  think  about  these  things 
sometimes  when  I  'm  unwindin'  Jimmy,  and 
I  wish  everybody  was  as  easy  to  manage  in 
their  innards." 

When  I  told  Sam  this  adventure  of  Jim 
my's  he  exploded  with  a  similar  wish  regard 
ing  my  unmanageable  and  unseen  interior. 
I  was  a  trial  to  him  at  that  time,  sulking  in 
retreat  while  I  should  have  identified  myself 
with  the  Dancing  Club,  the  Billiard  Club, 


38      THE  SPIRIT  OF  AN  ILLINOIS  TOWN. 

the  Lyric  Club,  the  Wilderness  Club ;  for 
club  life  began  early  to  mould  the  society  of 
the  ambitious  town.  The  Tennis  Club  was 
temporarily  suspended  until  summer  should 
again  permit  nets  to  be  stretched  and  courts 
to  be  marked  out.  I  heard  even  of  amateur 
plays  which  outdid  traveling  barnstormers 
in  the  little  theatre  on  the  west  side. 

Nor  did  I  take  that  interest  in  funerals 
which  Sam,  who  mourned  departed  friends 
with  policy  and  devotion,  would  have  had 
me  take. 

"  Man,  you  act  as  if  you  thought  you  'd 
never  die.  How  would  you  like  to  have 
people  slight  your  funeral  ?  " 

"  What  difference  would  it  make  to  me  ?  " 

"  It  would  make  a  tremendous  difference 
to  me  whether  folks  came  to  mine  or  not," 
declared  my  partner.  "  I  'm  setting  my 
stakes  for  a  regular  boom  when  my  turn 
comes.  It  often  brings  the  tears  to  my  eyes 
to  think  how  I  shall  be  mourned  and  shan't 
be  there  to  see." 

I  thought  it  likely  Sam  would  not  be  dis- 


ON  THE  WEST  SIDE.  39 

appointed  of  his  boom,  when  I  saw  how 
Trail  City  packed  a  house  to  which  he 
dragged  me  where  an  obscure  dead  citizen 
lay.  The  hideous  drenching  weather  had 
passed,  and  silver  mists  and  burnished  frost- 
iness  now  made  the  morning  landscapes  glo 
rious,  so  that  to  walk  abroad  was  a  delight. 
Yet  this  did  not  account  for  the  hushed  mul 
titudinous  gathering.  I  had  before  seen  all 
Trail  City  on  the  old  Pottawatomie  road 
leading  to  the  cemetery,  bearing  through 
sheets  of  rain  and  deep  mud-ruts  some  old 
shell  of  a  body  that  was  really  no  loss  to 
the  community.  But  at  that  time  I  had 
not  learned  the  great  neighborly  heart  of  an 
Illinois  town. 

I  saw  Kate  Keene's  hat  and  jacket  be 
yond  us  in  one  of  the  crowded  rooms,  and 
they  made  a  spot  of  living  interest  for  me 
while  the  minister's  voice  labored  like  a  loco 
motive  up  a  steep  grade  with  the  character 
of  the  departed. 

"  Our  brother  was  —  strictly  honest.  No 
body  can  gainsay  that,"  he  challenged. 


40      THE  SPIRIT  OF  AN  ILLINOIS  TO  WN. 

"He  had  n't  sense  enough  to  overreach 
anybody,  —  hardly  enough  to  coine  in  when 
it  rained,"  wrote  Sam  in  a  private  note 
book  for  my  eye.  The  good  people  around 
watched  him  respectfully  as  he  made  record 
of  local  eloquence. 

"  Our  brother's  health,  or  rather  his  lack 
of  health,"  proceeded  the  laboring  advocate, 
"prevented  his  greatly  distinguishing  him 
self  in  active  life." 

"Too  lazy  to  draw  his  breath,"  wrote  Sam. 

"  His  bereaved  family  "  — 

"  Eelieved  family,"  wrote  Sam. 

"  Come  along,"  he  whispered,  when  the 
wearied  crowd  were  permitted  to  stir,  and 
I  would  have  escaped  from  the  file.  "  It 's 
the  custom  of  this  country  to  put  yourself 
on  review  when  you  go  to  a  funeral.  You 
won't  get  any  credit  if  you  don't  pass  around 
and  view  the  remains.  Do  you  think  that 
widow  isn't  jealously  counting  noses,  and 
tallying  against  the  absentees?  The  less 
she  has  to  bury,  the  more  fuss  she  wants 
made  over  it." 


ON  THE  WEST  SIDE.  41 

We  duly  paid  our  last  tribute  to  that 
which  had  a  dignity  denied  to  us  who  gazed, 
and  I  confided  to  my  partner,  as  we  reached 
the  sidewalk,  that  the  occasion  had  been 
profitable  in  suggesting  notes  for  his  own 
obituary.  "  I  will  do  you  up  something 
like  this:  *  The  Honorable  Sham  Peevey, 
who  deceived  no  one  by  dropping  the  A,  has 
gone  to  his  long  rest,  and  we  may  now  en 
joy  a  little  ourselves.  His  aim  in  life  was 
to  make  his  generation  serve  him  to  the 
utmost.  Popularity  was  his  religious  creed. 
His  favorite  occupation  was  laying  flattery 
on  living  men  with  a  trowel '"  — 

"  Hold  on ;  I  never  basted  you,"  remon 
strated  Sam. 

—  "'but  for  dead  men,  who  no  longer 
represented  votes,  he  had  nothing  but  a 
scalpel.' " 

"  Nobody  saw  it  but  his  ill-natured  part 
ner,  though." 

"'He  was  good-natured  because  he  had 
a  digestion  proof  against  gormandizing.  En 
ergy  he  did  possess,  and  a  boundless  desire 


42      THE  SPIRIT  OF  AN  ILLINOIS  TOWN. 

to  boom  himself,  but  being  constituted  with 
out  an  immortal  soul,  his  chances  for  dis 
tinction  in  the  next  world  are  small.'  " 

"  He  never  neglected  his  friends,  however, 
and  he  has  something  pigeonholed  for  an 
emergency  which  may  overtake  his  dear  part 
ner,  Seth  Adams.  I  '11  do  you  justice,  my 
boy.  It  runs  like  this :  *  His  noble  form, 
six  feet  in  height  and  two  inches  in  width, 
enshrined  the  most  genial  nature  in  Trail 
City.  But  he  kept  it  all  to  himself.  My 
friends,  no  corporation  in  the  State  of  Illi 
nois  would  miss  Seth  Adams  more  than  Trail 
City  if  Trail  City  only  knew  he  had  been 
here.  Traveled,  scholarly,  of  a  culture  so 
sensitive  that  it  could  find  companionship 
only  in  the  silence  of  Esther's  crane,  what 
might  he  not  have  done  in  this  community 
if  he  had  only  quit  locking  himself  up  in 
his  own  room !  So  light  a  vehicle  overloaded 
with  soul  will  probably  never  again  slip 
through  Trail  City  without  making  any 
noise.' " 

While  we  chaffed  each  other  the  pushing 


ON  THE  WEST  SIDE.  43 

crowd  separated  us,  —  Sam  letting  himself 
be  carried  off  with  a  man  he  wanted  to  dun, 
and  I  consciously  waiting  for  our  house 
mate;  for  I  might  walk  with  her  in  sight 
of  the  town  after  a  funeral,  like  any  other 
acquaintance. 

Mrs.  Jutberg  did  not  interfere  with,  or 
direct,  or  in  any  way  chaperon  her  niece, 
varying  her  indifference  only  by  outbursts 
of  unexpected  rage.  To  see  the  girl  try 
to  avoid  giving  offense,  and  keep  to  a  nar 
row  path  unaided,  harrowed  me  as  it  must 
have  harrowed  any  man  who  approved  of 
conventual  care  over  girls.  The  protection 
Kate  had  was  nothing  but  brutal  abandon 
ment.  The  young  town's  innocence  was  in 
fact  her  only  bulwark.  A  dialogue  which 
we  sometimes  overheard  took  this  form :  — 

"  Aunt,  do  you  care  if  I  go  to  the  Club 
this  evening  ?  " 

"  No,  I  don't  care  where  you  go." 

"  But  you  have  no  objections  ?  You  have 
nothing  for  me  to  do  here  ?  " 

"  If  I  had,  I  'd  let  you  know. 


44      THE  SPIRIT  OF  AN  ILLINOIS  TOWN. 

"  Yes,  I  thought  you  would.  And  llucia 
York's  party  will  call  for  me.  If  we  are 
late,  I  can  stay  all  night  at  the  Yorks',  and 
not  disturb  you." 

"  You  'd  better,"  signified  Mrs.  Jutberg. 

With  large  patience  which  would  have 
been  unnatural  in  any  but  a  child  trained 
in  Kate's  hard  school,  she  would  then  thank 
her  guardian  for  the  privilege.  I  wondered 
where  she  had  learned  this  gentle  deference 
to  elders  so  unworthy  of  it.  The  remark 
able  man  who  looked  like  me  rose  more  and 
more  in  my  opinion,  as  I  reflected  on  what 
he  had  produced  between  his  bouts  in  the 
ditch ;  for  as  far  as  my  acquaintance  with 
the  maternal  stock  had  gone,  I  rejected  it  as 
having  no  part  in  the  result  called  Kate. 

Mrs.  Jutberg  certainly  had  times  of  ex 
altation  and  lightness,  but  she  was  not  on 
speaking  terms  with  any  neighbor,  and 
treated  the  world  as  in  conspiracy  against 
her.  Several  times  she  arraigned  Sam  and 
me  for  dark  and  deadly  clippings  in  our 
paper.  The  most  innocent  and  open  human 


ON  THE  WEST  SIDE.  45 

selfishness  she  translated  as  malign  influence 
directed  against  her  ;  and  we  heard  her  ac 
cuse  Kate  of  plots  and  deep-laid  schemes. 
She  would  nurse  these  ideas  for  days,  and 
then  suddenly  explode  them  with  disastrous 
force.  I  never  saw  Mrs.  Jutberg  dislocated 
by  laughter  ;  she  came  to  grief  through  tem 
per.  Yet  this  self -tormentor  was  the  most 
exquisite  of  that  school  of  old-fashioned 
housekeepers  who  cannot  tolerate  servants, 
and  make  a  fine  art  of  living ;  and  she  would 
sit  up  night  after  night  with  any  sick  en 
emy.  When  her  benevolence  passed  a  mod 
erate  limit,  however,  I  could  see  a  gentle 
uneasiness  appear  in  Mr.  Jutberg ;  he  anti 
cipated  a  recoil,  and  he  was  seldom  wrong. 

I  lifted  my  hat  and  fell  into  step  with 
Kate  Keene  in  the  midst  of  the  dispersing 
crowd.  I  cannot  now  tell  what  her  features 
were  like,  speech  or  expression  so  mobilized 
them;  but  she  affected  me  as  the  only  in 
dividual  in  all  that  crowd.  The  best  com 
panion  in  the  world  is  a  woman  capable  of 
great  friendship  whose  mind  does  not  run 


46      THE  SPIRIT  OF  AN  ILLINOIS  TO  WN. 

to  love  and  marriage.  She  had  no  self-con 
sciousness.  The  awkwardness  of  late  child 
hood  was  just  passing  like  a  discord  into 
virgin  harmony.  And  as  I  walked  beside 
her  the  thought  came  over  me  that  I  too 
was  young,  really  little  beyond  my  boyhood. 
I  was  not  twenty-eight  years  old. 

"Death  is  made  a  very  disgusting  trial 
to  a  man  by  the  customs  we  have,"  I  said 
to  her.  "  When  we  die  we  ought  simply  to 
disappear,  as  if  dropped  through  a  hole  in 
the  crust.  Survivors  missing  us  could  then 
say  with  some  respect  and  awe,  '  He  's  gone 
under.'  » 

"  Perhaps  it  will  be  that  way  for  you  and 
me.  I  have  often  thought  it  would  be  fine 
to  have  a  bureau  of  death  in  every  town  or 
on  city  street  corners,  where  poor  wretches 
who  could  no  longer  bear  life  might  drop 
it"  — 

"  Enter  without  money,  and  disappear 
without  a  funeral." 

"  Yes  ;  in  some  nice  painless  chemical  way 
that  leaves  no  traces,  —  the  whole  responsi- 


ON  TEE  WEST  SIDE.  47 

bility  resting  on  the  person,  who  decides  for 
himself." 

"  I  have  had  the  same  thought ! "  and  we 
looked  at  each  other  with  the  surprise  of 
meeting  in  a  discovery. 

"  Do  you  believe  it  would  be  very 
wicked  ?  "  inquired  Kate. 

"  I  believe  it  would  be  very  civilized." 

"But  many  people  would  rush  to  the 
place  in  a  passion  of  disappointment." 

"  And  stop  at  the  door.  Only  those  who 
really  needed  to  die  would  ever  go  in." 

"  I  have  seen  times  when  I  would  have 
gone  in,"  said  Kate. 

"You?" 

"  Yes.  Those  who  feel  deeply  would  be 
always  at  that  door ;  my  father  would  have 
been  lost  to  me  years  before  he  was.  We 
used  to  talk  about  it.  He  made  a  sketch 
once  that  he  called  '  A  Death  Bureau,'  but 
he  never  printed  it." 

"  I  made  a  sketch  on  the  same  theme  last 
week,  and  called  it '  The  Keady  Door ; '  and 
if  pushed,  I  shall  print  mine." 


48      THE  SPIRIT  OF  AN  ILLINOIS  TOWN. 

Again  Kate  and  I  looked  at  each  other 
with  astonishment  at  the  family  resemblance 
in  mental  states. 

"  Don't  print  it,  because  some  one  might 
read  it  who  would  make  a  ready  door  for 
himself  ;  and  after  he  was  dead  he  would  be 
so  sorry.  Now  I  am  older,  I  can  see  there 
is  danger  of  our  turning  around  at  the  other 
side  of  the  grave  and  wishing  to  come  back 
to  finish  what  we  were  made  for." 

"  But  so  few  of  us  are  made  for  anything. 
We  are  accidents." 

"  No,"  said  the  girl,  her  voice  softening  ; 
"  no,  father,  we  all  mean  something.  But 
some  of  us  are  a  long  time  finding  out  what. 
When  you  really  know  what  you  are  here 
for  and  how  to  take  hold  to  do  it,  it 's  grand 
to  live.  You  can  be  full  of  joy  when  you 
are  most  miserable.  Now  I  have  found 
this  out,  —  the  preachers  never  told  me : 
when  you  cannot  stand  trouble  any  longer, 
pray  to  God  Almighty  and  say,  '  O  God 
Almighty,  I  thank  you  for  everything,  — 
I  thank  you  for  everything !  '  That  takes 


ON  THE  WEST  SIDE.  49 

the  bitterness  away,  and  makes  you  feel 
calm  and  as  if  you  could  wait  and  see  what 
it  all  meant." 

"  I  neither  pray  nor  go  to  church." 

"Church  is  everywhere,"  said  Kate, 
"  and  you  have  to  pray.  You  pray  whether 
you  know  it  or  not." 

Two  tall  boys  pushed  by  us,  with  critical 
recognition  of  a  girl  overheard  counseling 
prayer.  Kate  gave  them  a  nod  and  a  smile, 
and  I  did  not  think  she  noticed  their  grins 
until  she  said  to  me,  watching  their  hulk 
ing  backs,  "Poor  fellows,  they  are  yet  in 
cattlehood,  and  have  to  pray  with  a  kind 
of  lowing." 

"  A  great  many  of  us  are  yet  in  cattle- 
hood,  and  have  n't  learned  even  the  lowing." 

"  A  man  like  you  ought  to  have  got  more 
out  of  his  troubles.  Such  as  those  yonder 
depend  on  men  like  you  to  do  their  thinking 
and  direct  their  salvation.  I  have  heard  my 
father  say  that." 

The  family  tendency  toward  religion, 
which  in  Mrs.  Jutberg  took  the  form  of 


50      THE  SPIRIT  OF  AN  ILLINOIS  TOWN. 

hysteria,  had  received  an  impetus  from  her 
father. 

"  It  always  seemed  to  me  a  childish  thing 
to  call  on  the  Lord  in  trouble,  and  forget 
him  at  other  times." 

"  Why,  no  one  forgets,"  said  Kate.  "  You 
can't  forget.  It  goes  on  all  the  time,  with 
out  words.  When  I  am  reading  to  people, 
I  am  praying  with  all  my  soul,  '  O  God  Al 
mighty,  please  let  your  light  shine  through 
me  now.' " 

"  What  do  you  read  to  people  ?  " 

"  Many  different  things."  She  turned 
her  innocent  face  full  upon  me.  "I  am 
going  to  read  in  public  for  my  living  when 
I  am  of  age." 

This,  then,  was  her  ambition.  The  mat 
ter  was  settled,  with  sublime  indifference  to 
obstacles ;  and  my  heart  ached  for  her. 

"  Have  you  had  training  ?  " 

"  Only  what  my  father  gave  me.  But  he 
said  I  must  learn  housekeeping  with  my 
aunt  until  I  am  eighteen.  For  when  you 
know  housekeeping  you  have  a  trade  to  fall 


ON  THE  WEST  SIDE.  51 

back  on,  as  the  Jews  always  brought  up 
their  children  to  have." 

I  secretly  admired  the  Israelitish  wisdom 
of  my  double,  and  intimated  that  she  must 
not  be  disappointed  at  having  to  fall  back 
upon  her  trade. 

"  Oh,  I  should  n't  mind  going  as  house 
maid  or  cook  in  a  city  while  I  watched  for 
my  chance,"  said  Kate.  "  I  don't  mind 
work ;  it 's  beautiful.  There  's  such  satis 
faction  in  making  everybody  comfortable. 
But  I  can  do  a  better  thing ;  and  my  father 
said  I  must  do  my  best." 

"  It  will  be  very  hard  to  make  a  place  for 
yourself  as  a  public  reader,  Kate." 

"  I  know  it  will,  but  I  shall  get  engage 
ments  when  the  time  comes." 

And  when  I  saw  her  radiant  patience  and 
confidence  I  could  not  say  another  word. 
Could  I  tell  her  how  nearly  impossible  it 
was,  without  stage  traditions  and  training, 
influence,  means,  or  protection,  to  enter  a 
career  so  nearly  allied  to  the  actor's,  that 
closest  profession  in  the  world?  Could  I 


52      THE  SPIRIT  OF  AN  ILLINOIS  TOWN. 

show  her  that  not  one  aspirant  in  a  thousand 
who  really  gained  the  boards  ever  rose  to 
distinction  ?  Could  I  threaten  her  with  the 
coldness  of  empty  halls  and  theatres,  and 
hard-hearted  landlords  who  would  seize  bag 
gage  for  unpaid  bills  ? 

The  pessimism  of  a  cosmopolite  was  so 
strong  in  me  that  I  did  some  lying  awake 
and  suffering  on  account  of  the  disappoint 
ment  in  store  for  this  poor  child,  who  de 
served  so  much  better  of  fate.  I  had  no 
influence,  no  money,  was  of  no  use  to  her 
myself.  This  vicarious  despondency,  which 
oppressed  me  greatly,  must  have  lasted  two 
or  three  weeks,  for  winter  had  struck  us 
with  what  the  natives  called  a  blizzard,  when 
Sam  walked  into  the  office  one  morning  and 
informed  me  that  I  would  go  to  the  Wilder 
ness  Club  with  him  that  evening.  I  remem 
ber  the  snow  ground  under  wheels  with  a 
scream  like  little  bells,  and  when  I  went  to 
the  railway  stations  for  items  the  north 
wind  blew  the  crystals  like  white  dust. 
There  was  a  fog  over  all  the  whiteness,  — 


ON  THE  WEST  SIDE.  53 

dry,  the  very  lacework  of  smoke-mist ;  and 
frost  flowers  and  trees  decorated  our  win 
dows.  Everything  was  so  full  of  electricity 
that  hair  crackled,  and  a  little  "  tic "  of  a 
shock  went  through  you  when  you  touched 
metal.  It  was  several  degrees  below  zero, 
and  I  had  merely  unbuttoned  and  thrown 
back  my  overcoat,  though  our  stove  sim 
mered  in  red  heat. 

Our  postal-card  correspondence  was  be 
fore  me,  items  gathered  by  rural  helpers, 
and  headed  with  the  names  of  their  respec 
tive  centres,  —  "  Plum  Eidge,"  "  Prairie 
Dog  Hollow,"  "  Kattlesnake  Corner,"  "  Big 
Slew,"  "Fidelity  Schoolhouse,"  and  many 
others.  It  gave  one  a  neighborly  thrilling 
of  the  heart  to  read  that  "  Sam  Cass  is  fin 
ishing  the  inside  of  his  new  house.  That 's 
right,  Sam:  first  fix  the  cage,  and  then 
catch  the  bird." 

And  "  Jerry  Fox  always  knowed  a  good 
thing  when  he  seen  it.  Jerry  has  took  in 
another  half -section.  He  now  has  as  fine 
a  farm  as  any  in  this  part  of  Illinois." 


54      THE  SPIRIT  OF  AN  ILLINOIS  TOWN. 

"  "We  regret  to  learn  that  Eli  Harness's 
children  is  down  with  the  whooping-cough, 
but  health  in  this  neighborhood  is  otherwise 
good,  except  Milton  Singly's  wife,  who  is 
also  bedfast." 

"Tade  Saindon  has  took  to  Sundaying 
in  Caxton.  Wonder  what  the  attraction 
is,  and  this  neighborhood  so  full  of  pretty 
girls?" 

And  the  human  bitterness  and  envy  be 
trayed  in  one  which  declared,  "  Some  of  the 
boys  around  here  are  getting  too  smart. 
Because  their  fathers  can  afford  to  send 
them  off  to  college,  the  airs  they  put  on  is 
enough  to  disgust  sensible  people." 

"Well,"  I  said,  looking  up  from  this  mass 
of  local  history,  "  you  have  been  threatening 
me  with  various  clubs  a  long  while.  But 
why  Wilderness  ?  In  this  bald  world,  where 
there  is  n't  a  stump  and  the  trees  are  trans 
planted  sticks,  why  Wilderness  ?  " 

"  That 's  Kate  Keene's  favorite  word ;  she 
named  the  club.  And  you  will  go  in  full 
evening  dress." 


ON  THE  WEST  SIDE.  55 

"  Sam,  I  have  n't  unfolded  my  dress  coat 
since  I  left  Paris." 

" '  Some  of  the  boys  around  here  are  get 
ting  too  smart,'  "  quoted  my  partner,  taking 
up  a  postal  card.  " '  Because  they  have 
been  abroad,  the  airs  they  put  on  is  enough 
to  disgust  sensible  people.' ' 

"  Airs  would  be  lost  on  Trail  City.  You 
only  feel  sorrow  for  a  man  who  has  been 
away  from  it  and  its  boom.  What's  the 
occasion  at  the  Wilderness  Club  to-night?  " 

"  Something  swell.  And  the  girls'  mo 
thers  will  be  there  to  help  them  receive 
after  the  theatrical  business.  You  think 
you  're  the  only  citizen  that  knows  his  little 
Shakespeare ;  you  '11  find  out  there 's  an 
other  of  us.  And  it  ends  with  a  cosy  ball, 
—  good  orchestra  music.  I  want  you  to  do 
the  style  for  the  firm ;  you  can  do  it  better 
than  anybody,  when  you  want  to." 

"  But  I  don't  think  I  want  to." 

"  Come,  old  man.  It 's  in  the  theatre. 
Parquet  floored  over  for  dancing ;  women 
there  working  like  mad  now,  decorating  with 


56      THE  SPIRIT  OF  AN  ILLINOIS  TOWN. 

flags  and  things;  and  Mrs.  Babcock  has 
risked  some  of  her  finest  greenhouse  flowers 
in  this  zero  weather.  They're  certain  to 
freeze  on  the  road ;  but  when  a  woman  goes 
into  a  thing,  she  goes  in.  Folks  will  be 
there  —  friends  of  the  Babcocks'  —  from 
Chicago,  and  the  Yorks  have  some  of  their 
people  here  from  the  East.  Trail  City  is 
going  to  eclipse  herself,  and  we  've  got  to  be 
in  it  with  both  feet." 

"I  have  no  desire  to  eclipse  anything 
with  my  feet." 

"  Oh,  come,  Seth.  This  won't  do  any 
longer.  It 's  treating  little  Kate  Keene 
badly,  you  know." 

"  What  has  she  to  do  with  it  ?  " 

"  Why,  she  's  the  star.  And  the  whole 
thing  is  for  charity,  besides." 

"  Why  did  n't  you  tell  me  it  was  a  charity 
scheme  ?  "  I  demanded,  with  instant  change 
of  resolution.  "  That  alters  the  matter. 
I  '11  come  out  for  charity's  sake.  What 
does  Kate  Keene  do  ?  " 

"  Wait  until  you  hear  her.    She  does  some 


ON  THE  WEST  SIDE,  57 

things  that  nobody  else  ever  did.  I  told  you 
her  father  was  an  actor  before  he  took  to 
drinking  and  newspaper  work,  did  n't  I  ?  " 

"  No,  you  never  did." 

"  Well,  she  's  a  corker  when  you  put  her 
before  an  audience.  I  can't  tell  you  what 
it  is.  Sometimes  I  think  it 's  genius.  She 
is  n't  pretty,  like  Teresa  Babcock  or  Lucia 
York  —  but  confound  Keene  !  why  did  n't 
he  leave  her  better  fixed?  I  have  often 
thought  she  would  make  a  fine  wife  for  a 
public  man,  with  that  magnetic  pull." 

"  Somebody  has  set  it  down,  Sam  Peevey, 
that  the  basest  men  will  take  the  devotion 
of  the  best  women  as  a  matter  of  course,  but 
I  never  saw  such  a  disgusting  illustration  of 
it  as  you  are." 

Sam  laughed,  shaking  his  ample  flesh. 
But  that  evening  I  saw  him  shake  more 
uncontrollably  with  weeping,  for  the  hearty 
fellow  always  carried  his  emotions  on  the 
outside  of  his  person. 

The  little  theatre,  with  its  single  huge 
chandelier  and  row  of  footlights,  was  pretty 


58      THE  SPIRIT  OF  AN  ILLINOIS  TOWN. 

with  bunting  and  potted  plants,  and  warm, 
and  full.  Chairs  had  been  arranged  upon 
the  floored  parquet,  and  here  and  in  the 
two  boxes  and  all  around  the  walls  spread  a 
sea  of  faces.  "We  saw  Teresa  Babcock  turn 
ing  her  black  eyes  toward  us  for  an  instant, 
with  the  proprietary  interest  she  certainly 
had  in  all  young  men ;  the  York  girls  sur 
rounded  by  a  court  and  smiling;  maids, 
matrons,  men,  children,  a  gathered  popula 
tion,  humming  like  bees.  All  the  girls  had 
their  mothers  or  other  relatives  to  witness 
their  social  triumphs.  I  looked  about  for 
the  sallow  face  of  Mrs.  Jutberg,  and  when 
Sam  detected  my  quest  he  laughed  at  me 
for  a  dull  sinner,  to  think  she  would  trust 
her  frail  soul  and  anatomy  in  such  a  vortex 
of  play-acting  and  dancing. 

Then  the  daughter  of  the  man  I  resembled 
came  across  the  stage.  Kate  Keene  looked 
like  a  Greek  girl.  How  the  slim  creature 
in  a  short  black  dress  that  we  were  used  to, 
became  a  supple  goddess  I  do  not  know. 
Perhaps  her  father's  stage  traditions  taught 


LIKE  A  GREEK  GIRL 


ON  THE  WEST  SIDE.  59 

her  that  noble  draping  —  of  silk,  or  wool,  or 
cotton,  it  might  have  been  snow;  one  was 
not  conscious  of  material  —  which  fell  from 
her  shoulders  to  the  floor,  and  was  bound 
under  the  breasts  by  a  girdle.  She  had  her 
hair  encircled  by  a  fillet.  Her  neck  and 
undeveloped  young  arms  were  like  veined 
marble.  And  I  remember  having  an  un- 
derthought  of  surprise  that  her  wrists  and 
hands  were  only  expressive ;  were  not  coars 
ened  by  the  labor  they  daily  performed. 

When  her  transformation  had  taken  hold 
of  us,  we  found  it  was  more  than  a  trick  of 
clothing ;  she  began  to  do  with  us  as  she 
pleased.  If  there  were  people  in  the  audi 
ence  whose  prejudices  she  shocked  by  that 
peculiar  simple  dress,  or  who  recalled  her 
father  to  her  disadvantage,  they  were  found 
in  their  innermost  hidings  by  a  piercing 
sweetness  of  voice  and  presence  that  I  can 
not  make  known  in  words.  It  was  a  spell. 
None  of  the  hollow  tricks  of  the  elocutionist 
broke  it.  She  made  people  pass  before  our 
minds,  magnifying  our  human  experience. 


60      THE  SPIRIT  OF  AN  ILLINOIS  TOWN. 

She  was  Perdita  as  white  as  a  lily.  She 
was  Cleopatra  with  a  Greek-Egyptian  face. 
With  sudden  angularity  she  was  Betsey 
Trotwood  chasing  donkeys.  She  was  a 
score  of  droll  American  forms  which  we 
recognized  with  shouts  of  laughter.  She 
was  age,  youth,  childhood,  tears. 

She  left  us ; .  and  four  times,  five  times, 
six  times,  seven  times,  we  dragged  her  back 
to  give  us  the  joy  of  living  a  moment  longer 
in  the  mimic  world.  And  then  the  town  of 
Trail,  with  its  guests,  stood  upon  its  feet, 
and  shouted  and  laughed  and  cried,  until  I 
felt  something  break  away  within  me.  I 
rushed  from  the  theatre,  leaving  Sam  stand 
ing  on  a  seat,  blubbering  and  waving  his 
handkerchief. 

I  worshiped  her.  The  light  of  God  Al 
mighty  shone  through  her.  I  seemed  to 
walk  among  thick-clustering  stars,  and  the 
constellations  overhead  were  near  enough  to 
pull  down.  My  trouble  was  gone.  A  re 
turning  tide  of  life  filled  me  with  warmth 
like  success.  There  was  a  lambent  spirit 


ON  THE  WEST  SIDE.  61 

who  had  brought  the  world,  the  whole 
world,  into  this  small  Illinois  town.  It 
made  no  difference  that  I  had  managed  af 
fairs  badly  in  the  past:  they  had  brought 
me  to  her;  the  main  interest  in  life  had 
been  served. 

I  looked  around  the  arctic  expanse  lost 
in  the  vastness  of  unseen  horizon,  and  loved 
my  town.  The  semaphore  at  the  railway 
junction  threw  crimson  lights  across  the 
snow,  and  a  hissing  of  quiescent  locomo 
tives  came  to  the  ear.  Let  them  plough 
through  darkness  on  long  quest  to  distant 
cities.  I  myself  was  landed.  Through  all 
this  fury  of  exaltation  there  was  no  definite 
object  before  my  mind.  I  did  not  know 
what  I  should  do;  the  happiness  of  being 
was  as  much  as  I  could  endure. 

It  was  bitter  cold,  but  to  the  outermost 
layer  of  skin  I  tingled  with  resisting  heat. 
My  overcoat  was  on  my  arm.  I  breasted 
the  awful  breath  of  the  Northwest.  I  was 
rushing  to  the  limits  of  the  western  side 
walk  when  a  panting  behind  made  itself 


62      THE  SPIRIT  OF  AN  ILLINOIS  TO  WN. 

heard,  and  I  turned  to  see  in  the  dimness 
one  of  the  hotel  runners  following  me. 

"  You  're  wanted,"  he  said,  blowing  on 
his  hands  and  stamping.  "  I  've  hollered  at 
you  nearly  ever  since  you  left  the  theatre, 
but  you  didn't  hear." 

"  You  don't  want  me  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir,  you  're  the  man.  There 's  a 
friend  of  yours  at  the  house  that  sent  for 
you." 

"Who  is  he?" 

"  I  was  just  to  say  it  was  a  sick  friend, 
and  to  tell  you  to  hurry." 

The  fact  of  my  having  a  sick  friend  made 
little  impression  on  me.  As  far  as  I  paid 
attention  to  the  fellow's  words  his  message 
was  of  little  account.  But  I  walked  back 
with  him,  intending  to  look  in  at  the  hotel, 
where  some  passing  bore  was  probably  find 
ing  time  hang  heavy  between  trains.  The 
merest  acquaintances  will  seize  on  you  in 
the  name  of  friendship,  when  they  have 
ends  of  their  own  to  serve.  What  Sam 
would  have  called  the  sick-friend  gag  did 


ON  THE  WEST  SIDE.  63 

not  in  the  least  deceive  me.  I  expected  to 
look  in  at  some  rubicund  fellow  with  his 
feet  and  a  box  of  cigars  on  the  table. 

The  huge  wooden  hotel,  mansard-roofed 
and  many-lighted,  was  gaudy  as  a  steamer 
in  the  waste  of  dim  whiteness.  That  many- 
storied  caravansary  went  up  in  fire  years 
ago ;  but  I  can  see  it  yet  as  I  stepped  from 
the  broad  stone  paving  into  the  pretentious 
entrance,  and  passed  vistas  of  billiard  and 
smoking  rooms,  and  the  deserted  long  apart 
ment  which  the  management  proudly  called 
its  saloon  parlor,  from  which  a  weak  piano 
usually  tinkled. 

The  messenger  led  me  upstairs,  and  though 
this  was  carrying  the  joke  of  the  sick  friend 
whom  I  expected  to  find  in  the  smoking- 
room  too  far,  I  followed,  still  in  the  white 
mental  heat  that  makes  a  man  externally 
numb  and  indifferent.  He  rapped  on  a  door 
at  the  front  end  of  the  corridor,  and  opened 
it  for  me  to  enter.  A  sift  of  well-known 
perfume  met  me.  The  door  shut  me  in,  and 
I  stood  face  to  face  with  my  wife. 


III. 

ON  THE   SOUTH    SIDE. 

WE  stood  without  speaking.  The  most 
vital  consciousness  I  had  was  of  the  change 
that  had  come  over  me,  rendering  me  so 
indifferent  to  her  presence.  Her  dark 
beauty  was  intensified  rather  than  marred 
by  what  she  had  done.  Vivid  health  and 
the  very  insolence  of  prosperity  sat  visible 
upon  her.  Her  eye,  encountering  mine  with 
resistant  hardihood,  swept  critically  down 
my  length.  She  could  not  help  that;  she 
was  a  physical  epicure.  It  was  I,  care- 
and-sorrow-worn,  lean  in  my  clothes,  'who 
winced  before  her. 

"  You  sent  for  me  ?  " 

"Yes.  I  saw  you  at  the  station  this 
morning.  I  was  on  the  south-bound  train. 
I  got  off  at  the  next  junction  and  came 
back." 


ON  THE  SOUTH  SIDE.  65 

"  What  do  you  want  ?  " 

She  sank  into  the  chair  on  which  her 
hand  rested,  and  said,  "  Sit  down." 

I  stood.  On  the  opposite  side  of  the 
small  parlor  was  a  full-length  glass,  reflect 
ing  a  cadaverously  pale  man  in  evening 
dress,  hat  in  hand,  holding  an  overcoat  on 
his  left  arm.  His  features  were  large,  but 
the  mouth  was  like  a  woman's.  He  had  a 
thin  layer  of  blond  hair  on  his  head.  His 
eyes,  which  I  had  always  thought  blue,  were 
points  of  steel.  I  had  no  interest  in  him  as 
a  presentation  of  myself,  except  to  despise 
his  lankriess  and  his  pitiable  attitude  before 
the  world  and  the  woman  who  had  wronged 
him. 

She,  who  had  been  for  me  the  romance 
of  youth,  my  first  voyage,  my  first  taste 
of  life,  the  woman  who  had  done  with  me 
as  she  pleased  without  having  her  caprices 
questioned,  began  the  arraignment :  — 

"  I  want  to  know  what  you  are  doing  here 
on  this  miserable  raw  prairie." 

"  May  I  ask  what  concern  it  is  of  yours  ?  " 


66      THE  SPIRIT  OF  AN  ILLINOIS  TOWN. 

"  I  choose  to  know  what  brought  you 
here." 

"  Poverty." 

"  What  are  you  doing  ?  " 

"  Editing  a  country  paper.  There  was  a 
time  when  I  could  have  selected  my  occupa 
tion,  but  that  time  is  past." 

The  swimming  nights  of  our  young  dis 
sipation  floated  between  us.  Any  human 
presence  is  compelling,  but  the  power  held 
by  one  who  has  been  wedded  to  you  is  a 
spiritual  tyranny  which  I  do  not  believe 
death  destroys.  I  was  calm,  and  without 
any  desire  to  throw  my  ruin  in  her  face. 
She,  on  her  part,  I  could  see,  was  yielding 
to  the  strain  of  the  old  tie. 

"  There  is  some  other  reason  for  your 
being  here.  Your  talents  would  command 
something  better." 

"My  talents  are  perhaps  undeveloped. 
And  the  place  need  not  trouble  you  to  the 
extent  of  sending  for  me  to  remonstrate 
about  it.  There  was  really  no  occasion  for 
this  meeting." 


ON  THE  SOUTH  SIDE.  67 

Her  crimson  mouth  flattened  across  her 
teeth.  "  You  are  here  on  account  of  a  — 
person,"  she  accused,  and  for  the  first  time 
I  felt  jarred. 

"As  you  are  evidently  neither  in  ill 
health  nor  in  need,  I  will  say  good-night. 
Our  relation  ended  when  you  left  me  in 
Paris  with  our  sick  boy." 

"  You  shall  not  blame  me  with  the  child's 
death.  It  was  the  nurse's  fault.  I  have 
shed  enough  tears  without  being  unjustly 
blamed.  You  know  I  was  not  fit  for  the 
care  of  children." 

I  wondered  that  I  had  ever  thought  her 
fit  for  anything  except  bending  the  world  to 
her  amusement.  I  could  look  at  her  with 
out  any  cursing  and  see  the  tangle  of  erratic 
motives  which  governed  her  life.  It  was 
not  manly  to  be  even  bitter  toward  a  crea 
ture  so  slight.  Her  pretty  selfishness  I  had 
myself  fostered.  We  met  on  shipboard, 
during  my  first  voyage,  and  I  followed  her 
and  her  parents,  and  courted  her  from  Ed 
inburgh  to  Egypt,  so  that  the  guidebook 


68      THE  SPIRIT  OF  AN  ILLINOIS  TOWN. 

routes  were  full  of  her.  Her  indulgent 
father  and  mother  finally  witnessed  our 
marriage  and  went  home,  and  then  like  two 
prodigals  we  wasted  my  living.  And  all 
the  time  that  rich  American  friend  who  had 
been  her  suitor  hovered  around  us,  pitying 
her  for  the  shortness  of  my  purse,  until  we 
quarreled,  and  she  suddenly  chose  her  lot 
with  him.  It  actually  seemed  now  the  af 
fair  of  another  man,  and  I  an  idiot  for  hav 
ing  taken  it  to  heart.  Her  trespasses  were 
far  away  in  a  dream,  as  all  trespasses  may 
appear  when  we  look  back  at  them  from 
another  life. 

"  I  have  not  accused  you  of  being  fit  for 
anything ;  and  as  I  said  before,  there  is  no 
need  of  this  interview,  so  good-night  again, 
and  good-by." 

She  threw  herself  against  the  door  and 
faced  me. 

"  No,  Seth  Adams,  you  are  not  going  to 
leave  this  room  yet.  I  have  disgraced  you. 
I  have  disgraced  myself.  But  my  father 
and  mother  have  forgiven  me,  and  they  have 


ON  THE  SOUTH  SIDE.  69 

hushed  things  up.  It  is  n't  known,  among 
us,  exactly  what  happened ;  and  that  other 
—  you  know  he  lives  abroad.  I  shall  never 
see  him  again.  I  don't  want  to."  She 
was  crimson.  "  I  never  should  have  be 
haved  as  I  did  if  you  had  not  blamed  me 
about  money.  At  home  they  never  blamed 
me  for  anything.  I  was  n't  used  to  it.  You 
made  me  wretched,  and  I  was  determined 
to  make  you  wretched,  and  I  did.  But  I 
never  thought  how  terrible  it  was  until  I 
had  actually  gone  with  him.  I  made  him 
send  me  home  when  I  heard  the  baby  was 
dead." 

I  put  out  my  hand  to  stop  her.  I  was 
ashamed.  But  she  caught  my  hand  and 
hung  to  it,  and  I  loathed  her  touch,  shak 
ing  it  off. 

"  Clara,  I  don't  know  what  you  have  done 
to  me,  but  you  have  killed  something  in  me 
that  can't  be  brought  to  life  again.  Doubt 
less  I  was  to  blame,  but  I  cannot  be  what  I 
was  before.  I  don't  feel  now  as  I  did  for 
months  after  the  baby  died.  That's  past. 


70      THE  SPIRIT  OF  AN  ILLINOIS  TOWN. 

I  believe  I  can  honestly  say  I  forgive  you, 
but  as  for  anything  else  —  you  are  dead  to 
me." 

She  stood  away  from  the  door,  turning  so 
pallid  that  I  remembered  keenly  the  pinched 
nostrils  of  my  dead  child. 

"  You  have  never  cared  for  me,  —  you 
let  me  go  easily,  —  and  I  —  I  have  been 
searching  for  you." 

I  broke  away  and  ran  downstairs,  and 
paused,  moved  to  go  back  and  comfort  her, 
and  rushed  on,  anywhere,  to  get  her  out  of 
my  sight.  The  personal  charm  that  I  had 
once  thought  so  irresistible  filled  me  with 
loathing.  I  said,  "  She  would  try  it  on  any 
man."  I  did  not  believe  she  had  been  seek 
ing  me.  It  was  her  caprice  to  get  off  the 
train,  and  to-morrow  it  would  be  her  caprice 
to  do  something  else. 

Sam  found  me  about  one  o'clock  in  my 
room,  burning  a  student's  lamp,  and  smok 
ing  densely  from  a  case  containing  my 
blackest  cigars.  Having  caused  a  front 
door  key  to  be  made  for  himself,  and  coaxed 


ON  THE  SOUTH  SIDE.  71 

Mrs.  Jutberg  not  to  bolt  the  locks,  he  en 
tered  at  will ;  but  no  other  footsteps  than 
his  came  into  the  house.  Kate  stayed  all 
night  with  the  Yorks,  when  she  had  been 
given  to  what  her  aunt  called  play-acting. 

Sam  tiptoed,  the  floor  creaking  under 
him,  and  sat  noisily  down,  giving  me  so  de 
termined  a  look  of  misery  that  I  thought  my 
secret  was  out.  It  would  have  to  come  out 
to  Sam,  anyhow,  without  further  evasion. 
The  next  day  might  bring  me  trouble.  I 
was  in  a  frame  of  mind  to  expect  anything. 
Discovery  could  no  longer  pain  me.  I  had 
a  steady  front  fixed  for  Sam,  but  the  poor 
fellow  stretched  himself  out  in  great  weari 
ness,  declaring :  "  You  have  the  only  level 
head  in  the  firm,  after  all,  old  man.  Here 
you  sit  smoking  in  comfort,  and  I  've  been 
bawling  and  dancing  and  eating  and  pro 
posing  ever  since  eight  o'clock,  until  I  'm  a 
complete  wreck." 

"  Lucia  York  or  Teresa  Babcock  ?  " 
"  Both,   man,   both.      I  've  been   asking 
'em  right  and  left.     If  Alice  had  n't  been 


72      THE  SPIRIT  OF  AN  ILLINOIS  TOWN. 

engaged,  and  the  young  man  in  attendance, 
I  'd  have  given  her  a  whirl,  too.  In  fact, 
there's  hardly  a  girl  in  Trail  City  that  I 
have  n't  proposed  to  to-night." 

"  You  must  have  been  drinking." 

"Not  in  this  town.  I'd  like  to  get 
drunk." 

"  And  which  of  these  young  ladies  may  I 
congratulate  ?  " 

"  All  of  them,  man,  all  of  them.  I  'm 
not  quite  unanimously  accepted,  but  I  'm 
taken  on  probation  and  the  approval  of  our 
elders  by  one  or  two.  And  the  only  one 
I  'm  head  over  ears  in  love  with  I  did  n't 
dare  tackle  at  all."  Sam  heaved  a  sigh 
which  might  have  alarmed  the  house. 
"That's  Kate  Keene." 

I  transfixed  Sam  with  an  eye  which 
arrested  him  in  the  midst  of  his  emotions, 
and  pushing  the  cigars  toward  him,  I  began 
and  told  him  my  own  story. 

"We  smoked  until  three  o'clock,  and  he 
gave  me  copious  advice.  He  had  been  sure 
I  was  hiding  something  from  him.  I  had 


ON  THE  SOUTH  SIDE.  73 

to  defend  my  child's  mother,  so  scathing 
and  contemptuous  was  his  wrath. 

"  If  we  had  both  of  us  come  to  these 
prairies  from  college,  instead  of  trying  ex 
periments  or  loping  off  to  Europe,  we  might 
be  rich  men  now.  As  it  is,  your  prospects 
are  ruined,  and  mine  have  been  damaged  at 
least  ten  years." 

"I  like  your  material  view  of  things," 
I  said.  "  I  had  n't  quite  reduced  the  mat 
ter  to  dollars  and  cents  before,  but  your 
calculation  is  a  great  help  to  a  man." 

Sam  spouted  forth  a  strong  oath  and 
struck  the  table  with  his  fist.  "  Everything 
in  this  world  has  to  stand  on  a  basis  of 
dollars  and  cents.  You  are  like  a  dog 
chained  to  a  post,  if  you  have  n't  dollars 
and  cents.  Money  is  liberty,  freedom  of 
choice,  power,  generosity,  virtue,  religion." 

This  estimate  of  his  struck  me  a  convin 
cing  blow  in  the  face  next  morning  when  a 
telegram  was  handed  to  me,  signed  with  my 
wife's  initials  :  "  I  am  going  back  to  him. 
Shall  sail  Saturday  from  New  York." 


74      THE  SPIRIT  OF  AN  ILLINOIS  TOWN. 

"  Sam,"  I  exclaimed,  starting  up  from  my 
office  chair,  "  I  must  have  a  hundred  dollars 
before  the  train  goes  north." 

As  I  crushed  the  telegram  into  my  pocket 
my  partner  answered,  "  Bank  won't  be 
open ;  and  we  have  n't  a  hundred  dollars 
on  the  right  side  of  the  balance,  anyhow, 
collections  have  been  so  slow." 

"  You  must  get  it." 

The  keen  north  wind  made  me  bow  to 
encounter  it  as  I  rushed  to  my  boarding- 
house.  By  the  time  I  had  put  some  things 
in  a  valise  I  paused.  The  old  habit  of 
guarding  the  woman  I  had  married  from 
her  impulses  had  sent  me  like  a  bolt  from  a 
bow.  But  why  should  I  attempt  to  restrain 
her  now?  What  would  it  mean  if  I  did 
restrain  her,  except  an  assertion  of  rights 
which  could  never  be  resumed  ?  I  smoothed 
the  telegram  on  my  knee  and  gave  it  a 
second  reading.  It  had  been  written  on  an 
east-bound  train,  and  sent  from  a  station  in 
Indiana.  It  dared  me  to  let  her  plunge 
again  into  that  life  from  which  she  had 


ON  THE  SOUTH  SIDE.  75 

recoiled.  It  was  desperation,  defiance,  chal 
lenge.  Her  father  and  mother,  ignorant 
of  her  change  of  destination,  would  not  be 
able  to  check  her.  I  clenched  the  telegram 
and  threw  it  across  the  room.  Very  well. 
Let  her  go.  What  affair  was  it  of  mine  ? 
It  had  now  become  her  father's  affair.  Let 
him  see  to  her  —  I  would  telegraph  and 
warn  him.  But  how  could  I  open  commu 
nication  with  him?  The  whole  business 
turned  me  sick.  How  bitter  it  is  to  feel 
responsibility  and  loathing  !  To  what  good 
did  it  tend,  this  appalling  tangle  of  human 
lives? 

I  had  never  been  in  the  house  at  that  time 
of  day  before.  It  seemed  very  still,  like  a 
sanctuary,  from  which  Mrs.  Jutberg  must 
be  eliminated  on  some  errand.  Presently 
a  singing  voice  sought  through  the  lower 
rooms,  for  what  I  know  not ;  but  it  found 
me  and  turned  me  as  soft  as  a  child,  so  that 
I  wept  face  downward  on  the  table.  A  man 
in  my  position  could  never  meddle  with  that 
crystal  simple  spirit  called  Kate  Keene. 


76      THE  SPIRIT  OF  AN  ILLINOIS  TOWN. 

She  who  had  stood  in  a  large  transfiguration 
like  the  spread  of  wings,  with  a  community 
at  her  feet,  was  now  moving  about  the  house 
again  in  her  short  black  dress,  forgetting  her 
power  in  domestic  service  for  us.  Meaner 
women  would  have  been  posing  for  homage, 
but  she  served,  served  always. 

Oh,  I  had  made  a  mess  in  my  boyish 
folly,  cutting  myself  off  from  the  real 
things,  and  mixing  with  lives  I  had  no  war 
rant  to  touch.  My  wife's  case  against  me 
was  as  bad  as  my  case  against  her.  If  that 
telegram  had  come  from  Kate  Keene,  I 
would  have  followed  her  on  my  hands  and 
knees. 

Sitting  down  calmly  at  my  office  desk 
again,  I  told  Sam  I  should  not  want  that 
hundred  dollars. 

"  But  I  've  got  it !  "  he  exclaimed,  elated. 

"Take  it  back,  then.  And  thanks,  old 
fellow,  for  your  promptness.  But  I  'm  not 
going.'' 

"  What  was  the  row,  anyway  ?  " 

I  opened  the  telegram,  which  I  had  picked 


ON  THE  SOUTH  SIDE.  77 

up  to  destroy,  and,  smoothing  creases,  passed 
it  over  to  him. 

He  whistled,  and  tore  it  into  the  waste- 
basket.  "  I  should  think  not.  Were  you 
such  a  fool  as  to  want  to  run  after  her? 
Where  do  you  expect  to  land  ?  " 

"  She  was  my  wife  —  and  is  yet." 

"  She  '11  get  unhooked  from  you  easy 
enough.  That  kind  always  do.  They  '11 
have  their  way  if  it  bursts  up  the  universe. 
Let  her  go  and  be  hanged.  Blast  such  busi 
ness  !  " 

I  looked  up  at  Sam,  and  he  dropped  the 
subject,  fingering  some  bank-notes  which  he 
took  out  of  his  vest-pocket.  His  quizzical 
smile  dwelt  on  me. 

"Like  to  know  who  I  held  up?  Old 
Billy,  the  coroner.  He  was  flush,  and  going 
to  deposit  when  the  bank  opened.  I  touched 
him  about  the  boost  we  gave  him  in  elec 
tion.  Say,  Seth,  my  mouth  has  been  water 
ing  for  one  of  these  new  sewing-machine- 
looking  things  they  call  typewriters.  Think 
what  an  attraction  and  boom  it  would  be 


78       THE  SPIRIT  OF  AN  ILLINOIS  TOWN. 

in  this  office.  The  fellows  over  at  Caxton 
would  lie  down  and  die  if  they  heard  we 
had  one." 

"  But  we  have  n't  the  money  for  it.'* 

"  Yes,  we  have ;  here  it  is.  I  fixed  old 
Billy  up  with  a  note  for  sixty  days,  at  legal 
rates ;  and  money  loans  outside  at  ten  now. 
We  're  solid  with  old  Billy.  It  was  an  ac 
commodation,  but  he  said  he  would  n't  want 
it  until  the  note  comes  due." 

"  We  have  another  payment  to  make  on 
our  press  in  sixty  days." 

"  But  our  circulation  's  growing.  If  we 
get  hard  up,  I  '11  renew  old  Billy." 

It  therefore  resulted  that  we  soon  had  a 
typewriting  machine  in  the  office,  a  thing  of 
wonder,  which  Sam  manipulated  and  streams 
of  farmers  came  to  see.  He  showed  its  paces, 
rattling  the  types  and  jingling  the  little  bell 
in  endless  lines  of  senseless  printing,  while 
I  worked  double,  making  up  the  paper. 
Our  friend  Billy  came,  also  ;  but  when  the 
novelty  of  the  typewriter  had  worn  off,  his 
attitude  used  to  disturb  us.  He  would  sit 


ON  THE  SOUTH  SIDE.  79 

leaning  forward,  with  his  arms  on  his  knees, 
gazing  pensively  at  Sam. 

"  Confound  it,  what  does  ail  you  ?  "  Sam 
once  burst  out. 

Billy  shook  his  head.  "  I  have  n't  said 
anything." 

"  No,  but  you  wear  a  man  out  looking  at 
him.  What  did  you  lend  your  money  for, 
if  you  wanted  it  yourself  ?  " 

"  I  have  n't  asked  you  to  take  up  the 
note." 

"  No,  but  you  come  and  sit  on  it  right 
here  in  the  office.  Now  will  you  go  before 
I  mash  you  with  this  letterpress  ?  " 

Billy  sat  still,  leaning  on  his  arms  and  look 
ing  at  Sam,  waiting  for  his  note  to  mature. 

"  Blast  an  accommodating  man  that  re 
pents  !  Go  out  and  wreck  a  train,  Seth, 
and  give  the  old  fool  something  to  do." 

Then  Sam  would  put  on  a  stoic  front,  and 
fix  Billy  with  fishlike  glassiness  between  in 
tervals  of  work. 

So  it  came  to  pass  that  at  the  end  of  sixty 
days  we  renewed  other  notes,  but  paid  old 


80      THE  SPIRIT  OF  AN  ILLINOIS  TOWN. 

Billy's,  though  with  the  unflinching  frater 
nity  of  Western  men  he  and  Sam  remained 
in  that  state  of  mutual  affection  which  they 
called  "  solid  "  with  each  other. 

It  was  not  so  easy  to  keep  solid  with  the 
social  element  of  Trail  City,  for  we  had 
started  our  daily,  and  were  obliged  to  watch 
with  incessant  vigilance  all  municipal  ebb 
and  flow.  While  no  hostess  wanted  to  blazon 
her  social  functions,  and  affected  much  reti 
cence  toward  the  press,  each  was  indignant 
and  sometimes  revengeful  if  not  blazoned 
according  to  her  full  merit.  I  learned  also 
that  there  is  no  stickler  for  etiquette  like 
your  small-town  woman  who  has  read  and 
not  traveled.  It  came  to  me  like  another 
revelation  that  rich  men  are  really  the  scape 
goats  of  the  poor.  I  saw  the  financial  sins 
of  a  whole  community  piled  again  and  again 
on  the  few  who  were  able  to  bear  them. 

"  Confound  the  unsuspecting  beef  I  " 
growled  our  banker,  Mr.  Babcock,  who  took 
me  for  a  confidant  in  his  municipal  troubles. 
"  They  '11  vote  for  a  measure  that  will  take 


ON  THE  SOUTH  SIDE.  81 

the  very  hide  off  of  them.  Then  as  soon  as 
it  begins  to  hurt  they  bellow  and  lie  down ; 
and  we  other  fellows,  we  have  to  step  up 
and  do  the  pulling." 

The  beef,  on  their  part,  were  wise  in  the 
use  of  money  not  their  own,  and  full  of  sug 
gestions  to  those  who  had  it.  "Babcock 
and  York,"  remarked  one  of  these  small  tax 
payers,  "  is  belly-achin'  and  chawin'  the  rag 
about  somethin'  the  whole  time.  If  I  had 
as  much  as  they  have,  I  'd  make  a  handsome 
gift  to  the  town,  f'rinstance  a  lib'ary." 

Sam  showed  his  athletics  in  our  local  col 
umn,  and  polished  off  items  in  the  prevail 
ing  manner.  We  chronicled  the  visits  of 
Miss  Callie  Van  Voris,  one  of  Trail  City's 
fairest  daughters,  to  Veedersburg,  or  the 
arrival  of  a  lovely  brick-top  blonde  from 
Caxton.  And  we  announced  that  Mr.  Blue 
Thompson  had  accepted  a  position  in  Davis's 
drug -store,  when  everybody  knew  he  had 
been  hanging  around  all  winter  for  a  job. 
In  the  same  spirit,  a  few  weeks  later,  Mr. 
Blue  Thompson  being  kicked  out  of  the 


82      THE  SPIRIT  OF  AN  ILLINOIS  TO  WN. 

drug-store  for  incompetency,  and  obliged  to 
fall  back  on  his  relations,  we  said  he  had 
severed  his  connection,  and  would  visit  a  few 
weeks  at  his  grandfather's,  to  recuperate  his 
health.  Nobody  but  a  political  aspirant  of 
the  wrong  party  had  the  truth  printed  about 
him.  We  chronicled  Christmas  trees  in  the 
various  churches,  and  Reverend  Spindle's 
apt  remarks  to  a  giggling  school  on  the 
difficulty  of  Santa  Claus's  making  a  way 
through  drifts  that  year. 

As  spring  opened,  every  stick  or  stone  of 
improvement  which  took  shape  in  Trail  City 
we  duly  recorded,  with  glorification  of  the 
public-spirited  improver.  At  the  same  time, 
having  our  yearly  railroad  passes  in  the 
bottoms  of  our  pockets,  we  performed  that 
gymnastic  feat  which  Sam  called  jumping 
on  the  companies  with  both  hoofs,  demand 
ing  suitable  station  buildings  for  our  grow 
ing  town.  The  penurious  policy  of  sticking 
old  sheds  together  with  new  paint  was  held 
up  to  Trail  City's  delighted  ridicule. 

This  applause,  however,  was  the  last  unan- 


ON  TEE  SOUTH  SIDE.  83 

imous  voice  heard  in  Trail  City  that  spring ; 
for  we  of  the  North  Side  were  growing  bit 
terly  jealous  of  the  South  Side.  It  blos 
somed,  and  throve,  and  flaunted.  We 
sneered,  and  called  it  the  Capitol  and  Nob 
Park ;  while  it  retorted  jauntily  by  giving 
us  the  name  of  Chew-the-Kag  or  Grumblers- 
ville.  But  none  of  these  little  localisms 
crept  into  the  paper.  On  the  contrary,  Trail 
City's  daily  organ  trumpeted  the  vigorous 
solidarity  which  was  making  us  the  envy  of 
all  less  prosperous  towns. 

Then  the  first  warm  day  of  spring,  like  a 
stroke  of  summer,  prostrated  us.  One  hour 
it  was  March,  bleak  and  howling,  mud  from 
bottomless  slews  smearing  revolving  spokes 
to  a  semblance  of  chariot  wheels ;  and  al 
most  at  once  the  earth  was  fleeced  with  grass, 
it  was  April,  the  air  ringing  with  bird-songs. 

The  blood  started  anew  with  longing  which 
was  harder  to  starve  down  than  it  had  been 
during  hibernating  winter.  I  was  in  a  pas 
sion  of  aching,  and  used  to  sit  with  hands 
clasped  behind  my  head  in  the  spring  twi- 


84      THE  SPIRIT  OF  AN  ILLINOIS  TOWN. 

lights,  secretly  demanding  my  own  and  the 
life  I  had  a  right  to  live  with  her.  Per 
haps  because  the  riot  of  youth  had  turned 
to  loathing,  I  put  my  idol  on  a  pedestal 
and  adored  her,  with  nunlike  hiding  and 
cherishing  of  celestial  passion.  How  many 
times  I  watched  Kate  in  the  April  and  May 
evenings  of  that  spring,  standing,  the  centre 
of  assemblies,  raying  her  power  in  almost 
visible  streams  in  every  direction  to  the  re 
motest  soul.  It  seemed  impossible  for  her  to 
imagine  malice  even  in  her  aunt.  Through 
Sam  I  learned  that  Teresa  Babcock  and 
Lucia  York  were  always  quarreling.  When 
Teresa's  betrothed  from  a  distant  State  ap 
peared  to  claim  his  rights,  and  Sam's  engage 
ment  to  Lucia  duly  followed,  these  girls 
agreed  worse  than  ever.  Kate  used  to  stand 
between  them,  a  golden  medium  through 
which  their  spiteful  speeches  passed  gilded 
and  refined.  While  they  fought  for  social 
leadership,  she  easily  led  both  them  and 
their  partisans,  because  she  did  not  care  to 
rule  and  had  every  one's  love. 


ON  THE  SOUTH  SIDE.  85 

Her  lonesomeness  was  known  only  to 
me,  who  drew  near  her  in  the  same  need. 
"  When  people  see  you  lucky  and  glad," 
said  Kate,  in  one  of  our  brief  talks,  "  they 
think  the  world  must  be  a  glad  and  lucky 
place,  and  are  ashamed  they  have  n't  found 
it  out  for  themselves.  I  never  tell  the  girls 
my  troubles.  What  good  would  it  do? 
They  could  not  help  me.  I  'm  not  going  to 
make  any  fuss.  My  father  said  that 's  what 
strengthens  us,  —  bearing  strains  by  our 
selves.  I  love  to  kneel  and  keep  still.  There 
must  be  such  a  racket  of  prayers  in  God 
Almighty's  ears,  especially  in  the  winter 
when  some  churches  have  revivals,  that 
heaven  resounds  like  a  factory." 

During  this  resurrecting  spring  she  kin 
dled  ambition  in  me  once  more,  and  I  began 
to  work  in  that  line  which  has  since  become 
my  absorbing  occupation.  Kate  was  my 
critic.  We  were  not  often  together,  but  I 
passed  her  my  manuscript,  and  she  set  down 
her  opinion  on  a  separate  slip  of  paper.  It 
had  salt  sense,  and  was  gently  merciless  with 


86      THE  SPIRIT  OF  AN  ILLINOIS  TO  WN. 

my  faults.  And  no  praise  that  ever  comes 
again  to  me  in  this  world  will  bring  such 
rapture  as  her  large-lettered  "  Right  "  pen 
ciled  beside  a  paragraph.  We  sometimes 
disagreed  and  argued  from  our  points  of 
view,  her  eyes  looking  straight  into  mine 
with  human  love  and  experience  and  patience, 
old  as  the  Pyramids,  wise  as  the  Sphinx. 
She  was  like  primeval  air  blowing  across  the 
prairies,  her  very  flesh  seeming  to  exhale 
fragrance. 

Clara  had  sent  me  notice  of  divorce  pro 
ceedings  from  Paris.  She  would  sometime 
be  able  to  rehabilitate  herself  and  take  the 
place  she  was  fitted  for.  Clara  was  one  of 
those  people  who  get  anything  they  want 
by  simply  taking  it  at  any  cost.  I  may  set 
down  here  that  she  finally  married  her  friend, 
whose  wealth  was  boundless,  and  now  queens 
it  in  a  certain  American  circle  in  Paris,  and 
no  doubt  looks  back  with  contempt  on  her 
advances  toward  me.  These  established  facts 
have  become  a  moral  stay  to  me. 

The  animal  instinct  to  better  herself  with- 


ON  THE  SOUTH  SIDE.  87 

out  retrospective  pangs,  which  Clara  had, 
was  not  understood  by  Kate.  I  left  the 
French  paper  containing  notice  of  matrimo 
nial  dissolution  on  my  table,  marked  and 
conspicuous,  secure  in  the  knowledge  that 
Mrs.  Jutberg  read  nothing  but  her  mother 
tongue.  My  child  was  very  tender  with  me 
afterwards,  not  failing  to  call  me  father 
when  we  spoke  together  alone.  She  thought 
I  cared  because  divorce  was  to  be  added  to 
my  other  griefs.  Though  this  sweet  imper 
sonal  kindness  might  have  been  shown  as 
well  to  Sam,  I  lived  on  it. 

Oh,  what  sunsets  there  were,  flashing 
across  emerald  plains;  and  twilights,  be 
ginning  before  the  sun  went  down,  and  lin 
gering  with  the  smell  of  grass  quite  into 
the  night !  The  thunder-pumper  began  his 
suction  -  note  again  in  the  distance,  and  as 
days  warmed  and  the  birds  thickened,  like  a 
dream-note  far  out  on  the  prairie  you  heard 
the  prairie-chicken's  "  bum-bum-boo.'*  How 
cunning  was  that  lowly  home-maker !  I  have 
seen  the  mother  hen  fall,  dragging  her  wing 


88      THE  SPIRIT  OF  AN  ILLINOIS  TOWN. 

and  limping,  to  draw  the  sportsman  away 
from  her  nest ;  and,  this  accomplished,  rise 
in  the  air  like  a  dart.  Listening,  I  can  hear 
again,  across  years,  the  six  dove  cadences 
which  came  incessantly  from  the  cemetery 
up  the  slope  :  — 


"Wo-o,    Wo-o,    Wo  -  o!" 

Not  the  least  wistfulness  stirred  in  Kate 
as  she  saw  other  girls  pairing  off,  and  heard 
their  talk  about  wedding-clothes.  She  had 
to  keep  clear  of  such  entanglements.  Sam, 
elated  by  alliance  with  a  leading  house,  really 
congratulated  himself  on  putting  Kate  like 
a  temptation  out  of  his  mind.  He  told  me 
broadly  her  father  had  furnished  her  all  the 
shade  she  could  stand.  What  Kate  Keene 
now  required  was  a  rich,  indulgent,  and 
powerful  husband,  a  man  politically  estab 
lished,  who  would  give  full  play  to  her  tal 
ents  in  a  diplomatic  way. 

"  I  would  like  to  see  her  in  Washington," 
declared  Sam.  "Confine  her  powers  to  a 


ON  THE  SOUTH  SIDE.  89 

drawing-room,  and  let  her  work  for  a  pur 
pose  ;  she  could  move  the  government." 

I  told  Sam  broadly  that  an  engaged  man 
would  be  better  employed  turning  his  face 
toward  the  charms  he  meant  to  admire  in 
the  future  instead  of  back  to  the  charms  he 
had  admired  in  the  past ;  upon  which  he  be 
gan  a  resentful  and  baffled  eulogy  of  Lucia. 

"  You  know  Lucia  is  exactly  the  girl  for 
me.  I  've  got  my  way  to  make.  I  don't 
expect  the  old  colonel  to  take  me  in  out  of 
the  wet,  though  a  quarter  section  as  a  starter 
won't  go  bad.  Lucia  York  is  n't  one  of  your 
fair-weather  girls,  either ;  she  '11  come  out 
best  under  hardship/' 

"  And  you  're  just  the  man  for  her.  You  '11 
keep  her  in  hardship  enough  to  develop  all 
her  virtues." 

"  There  are  times,"  my  partner  said  con 
temptuously,  "  when  I  would  like  to  turn  in 
and  be  a  hog  myself.  But  there  's  never 
any  chance ;  the  other  member  of  the  firm 
has  a  permanent  job  of  it." 

I  pointed  out  to  Sam  how  often  we  vio- 


90      THE  SPIRIT  OF  AN  ILLINOIS  TOWN. 

late  conscience  and  self-respect  by  smiling 
at  our  friends'  horse-play,  and  suffering  in 
accepting  it  as  humor.  But  a  man  like  Mr. 
Jutberg  never  distorted  one  by  this  passion 
of  sympathy.  He  put  himself  sincerely  into 
what  he  said,  and  the  restricted  alphabet  of 
his  native  tongue  drove  the  few  words  he 
used  home  in  the  memory. 

He  was  smoking  his  pipe  when  an  alter 
cation  took  place  between  his  wife  and  Mrs. 
York  at  the  gate.  Mrs.  York,  gentle  to 
tremulousness,  always  fluttering  about  her 
children,  apprehensive  of  some  change  in 
their  health,  must  have  thought  of  the  dom 
iciliary  interest  this  formidable  neighbor 
ought  to  have  in  Lucia's  affianced  husband. 
With  nagging  love  she  would  coo,  "  How 
do  you  feel,  Alice  ?  Does  your  head  ache  ?  " 

"  No,  mamma,"  the  impatient  girl  would 
answer. 

"  But,  Lucia  dear,  your  poor  stomach,  — 
how  is  your  poor  stomach  to-day  ?  " 

"Oh,  mamma,"  the  girls  would  groan, 
"  do  let  our  heads  and  backs  and  stomachs 
alone." 


ON  THE  SOUTH  SIDE.  91 

So,  feeling  her  family  ties  extended,  Mrs. 
York  braved  the  tricks  which  fierce  sky 
light  plays  with  the  human  countenance, 
and  dared  the  encounter :  — 

"How  are  you  to-day,  Mrs.  Jutberg? 
How  is  your  —  face  ?  " 

"  I  'm  well,'*  answered  Mrs.  Jutberg, 
unmasking  that  face  like  a  battery,  "and 
likelier  to  stay  well  than  folks  that  spend 
their  nights  dancing." 

"  Yes,  I  know  you  don't  approve  of  it. 
But  boys  and  girls,"  pleaded  Mrs.  York 
weakly,  "always  love  the  harmless  amuse 
ment." 

"  Do  you  call  yourself  a  boy  or  a  girl  ?  " 

"Well,  not  exactly,"  hedged  the  gentle 
sympathizer.  "  But  they  like  to  have  their 
fathers  and  mothers  occasionally  take  a  turn 
with  them.  Indeed,  I  feel  it  is  only  due  to 
the  girls." 

"  I  Ve  been  wanting  to  ask  you  a  ques 
tion  this  long  time,"  said  the  burden-bearer, 
coming  nearer  the  fence  and  looking  her 
apprehensive  listener  down. 


92      THE  SPIRIT  OF  AN  ILLINOIS  TOWN. 

"Have  you?"  faltered  Mrs.  York. 
"  What  is  it  ?  I  shall  be  glad  to  answer 
anything  I  can  answer." 

"  The  question  is  this  :  What  is  a  man 
thinking  about,"  demanded  Mrs.  Jutberg, 
chopping  her  words  fiercely,  "when  he  is 
dancing  with  you  ?  " 

The  expression  of  the  matron  outside 
changed  at  once  from  puzzled  pondering  of 
a  conundrum  to  alarm  and  swift  aversion, 
as  she  saw  the  other  begin  to  gasp  and  chew 
air  with  inarticulate  sounds. 

"The  man  that  danced  with  you  would 
have  enough  to  think  about,"  she  returned, 
with  a  tardy  but  effectual  asperity,  escaping 
as  Mr.  Jutberg  sauntered  to  the  fence  and 
performed  his  usual  surgery. 

In  a  culmination  of  soft  Swedish  wrath 
he  swore  :  "  By  Vashin'tons  !  I  never  put 
this  yaw  up  again  no  more  if  it  vag  at 
every  neighbor  that  go  past.  By  Yack- 
sons !  I  could  get  me  plenty  voman  that 
not  come  unyointed  at  all." 

Then  the  woman  pulled  her  sunbonnet 


ON  THE  SOUTH  SIDE.  93 

over  her  face,  slammed  the  gate,  and  set 
forth  on  one  of  her  hag-ridden  walks,  and 
her  husband  looked  after  her,  relenting. 
"  She  vas  the  finest  cook  in  Trail  City." 

I  cannot  recall  a  word  of  love  that  was 
spoken  by  me  to  Kate.  Yet  if  she  came 
unexpectedly  near,  the  blood  jumped  in  my 
heart.  Sometimes  our  eyes  met  in  silence, 
and  she  was  puzzling  with  a  beneficence 
that  for  the  first  time  held  pain. 

Heats  like  burning  blasts  of  the  desert 
swept  those  prairies  in  the  very  greenness 
of  May.  Before  we  could  well  bear  the 
renewed  tingle  of  life  which  the  spring 
brought,  that  unspeakable  longing  for 
things  unfulfilled,  the  passion  of  lava  fires 
was  in  the  air. 

On  a  hot  May  night,  as  I  came  down 
stairs,  I  saw  Kate  in  the  unlighted  hall. 
Her  hand  was  on  the  newel  where  I  had 
rested  the  lamp  the  first  night  I  looked 
upon  her  face.  She  stood  thinking,  and 
turned  mutely  to  give  me  through  the  dusk 
the  smile  of  general  good  will,  her  potent 


94      THE  SPIRIT  OF  AN  ILLINOIS  TOWN. 

benediction  on  all  men.  I  dared  to  slide 
my  hand  down  the  rail,  so  near  that  my 
finger-tips  kissed  her  dear  wrist,  lingering, 
taking  joy  of  the  touch.  The  strong  cur 
rent  of  her  life  shocked  through  me.  The 
cool  firm  surface  of  flesh  drove  my  blood 
like  mad  waters.  Her  hand  turned  and 
clung  around  mine,  understanding ;  and 
then  remembering,  wrung  itself  away.  Her 
breath  was  caught  with  a  gasp.  She  left 
me,  and  I  went  out  to  the  limits  of  the 
town,  and  walked  and  walked,  feeling  as 
if  I  could  take  the  stars  out  of  the  sky 
and  handle  them  one  by  one.  How  high 
life  rose  in  that  touch  ! 

The  afternoon  of  the  next  day,  about 
three  o'clock,  night  swept  suddenly  through 
the  office.  Our  windows  looked  north.  I 
was  hard  at  work,  oblivious  to  time,  and 
rose  for  matches  to  light  the  chandelier. 
Then  I  heard  a  stampede  of  feet  on  the 
pavements  below.  Little  pillars  of  dust 
walked  like  phantoms.  The  air  which  had 
been  sultry  turned  deadly  cold,  and  yet  you 


ON  THE  SOUTH  SIDE.  95 

could  not  breathe  it  in  that  strange  vacuum. 
It  was  as  if  air  had  been  withdrawn,  and  a 
stifling  odorless  gas  substituted.  It  rasped 
all  objects  with  a  whistling  scream.  I  saw 
the  sky  dragging  on  the  opposite  roofs, 
rising  and  rebounding;  and  running  down 
into  the  eclipsed  streets,  I  joined  men  stand 
ing  on  a  crossing,  holding  their  hats  on. 
My  head  was  bare,  and  I  had  a  sensation 
of  having  my  hair  pressed  into  my  skull. 
Northward,  vapor  bounded  along  the  sur 
face  of  the  earth  at  right  angles  to  a  moving 
wall  of  blackness  coming  out  of  the  south 
west.  Ragged  lights  of  bird's-egg  green 
zigzagged  in  this  wall,  and  the  faces  of  all 
around  me  were  dim  and  ghastly.  We 
smothered  in  an  icy  river  of  exhausted  air, 
and  the  wall  came  on  with  a  million  loco 
motive  roars,  crashes  and  screams  rising  in 
its  course.  I  remember  Sam  shouting  at 
my  ear,  but  his  voice  was  blown  away,  and 
so  seemed  the  people,  running  to  cellars  in 
that  earthquake  darkness.  The  most  dis 
tinct  object  in  the  world  to  me  was  Kate, 


96      THE  SPIRIT  OF  AN  ILLINOIS  TOWN. 

two  or  three  blocks  to  the  south,  driven  like 
a  leaf. 

Sometimes  I  dream  now  of  swimming 
against  eternity,  clutching  for  the  dear  lithe 
shape  I  could  not,  could  not  find.  The 
wind  which  drowned  my  voice  brought  hers 
to  me.  She  called  me.  My  child,  my 
mate,  mine  by  the  kinship  nothing  can 
break  —  if  I  ever  strained  body  and  soul 
until  blood  broke  through  the  pores,  that 
was  my  instant  of  sinew  -  cracking  agony. 
If  I  had  found  her,  heaven  would  have 
made  a  white  spot  in  that  whirling  hell. 

The  next  thing  I  knew  there  was  rain 
pouring  down  windows.  I  heard  it  hiss. 
Then  the  smell  of  drugs  surrounded  me ; 
and  I  looked  up  into  a  physician's  face,  and 
at  Sam  supporting  me,  and  at  the  ceiling  of 
Mrs.  Jutberg's  back  parlor.  So  tyrannical 
are  the  trivial  things  of  life,  I  thought  first 
of  her  anxious  care  about  the  carpets,  and 
wondered  what  had  happened  to  sink  them 
below  humanity. 

Then  I  noticed  that  I  was  dressed  for 


ON  THE  SOUTH  SIDE.  97 

bed,  and  had  perhaps  lain  some  time  in  the 
folding  couch  which  held  me.  Mrs.  Jut- 
berg  was  behind  my  head,  for  she  moved 
into  sight  as  she  came  into  my  mind,  look 
ing  chastened.  But  I  had  no  further  inter 
est  in  her.  It  flashed  across  me  that  the 
cyclone  was  over,  and  I  did  not  see  Kate. 

"  Where  is  she  ? "    I  demanded. 

"  You  're  all  right  now,"  said  Sam. 

"  Did  any  one  bring  Kate  in  ?  " 

"  Oh  yes,"  soothed  the  doctor,  "  Kate  was 
brought  in." 

"Was  she  hurt?" 

"She 'swell." 

"  I  want  to  see  her,"  I  explained  to  the 
bland  stupidity  of  the  man.  "I  want  to 
see  Kate  Keene.  She  was  out  in  the  storm. 
Did  you  bring  her  in  yourself,  Sam  ?  " 

"I  helped,"  answered  Sam.  "Shut  up, 
sonny,  and  take  your  medicine.  You  were 
a  pretty  spectacle  when  we  brought  you  in ; 
must  have  been  blown  through  a  tree-box. 
What  little  sense  you  ever  had  has  been 
knocked  out  of  you  for  a  week." 


98      TEE  SPIRIT  OF  AN  ILLINOIS  TOWN. 

After  swallowing  what  they  gave  me,  I 
did  not  fully  awake  until  it  was  night,  and 
I  saw  the  water  still  rushing  down  black 
panes.  Sam  was  with  me,  reading  beside 
a  shaded  lamp. 

"  Is  it  ever  going  to  quit  raining  ? "  I 
inquired. 

He  put  his  book  down,  and  sat  on  the  edge 
of  my  bed.  "  We  have  had  a  pretty  wet 
spell  since  the  cyclone.  How  do  you  feel?  " 

I  tried  to  move  a  body  stiff  and  weighted. 

"  A  few  broken  ribs,"  exaggerated  Sam, 
"  and  a  few  pieces  of  skull  jammed  in." 

I  looked  at  him  closely :  he  showed  rav 
ages  himself.  "  Was  Kate  hurt  ?  " 

He  twisted  uneasily,  and  I  saw  he  was 
preparing  a  tale  for  me,  and  gripped  him 
by  the  lapels  of  his  coat.  My  arms  had  not 
been  broken.  "  Sam,  you  are  a  great  fraud 
in  some  ways,  but  you  are  not  a  good  liar. 
Tell  me  the  truth." 

"You  idiot!"  he  blustered.  "When 
half  the  South  Side  was  wrecked,  would 
anybody  outside  a  cellar  escape  a  whirl? 


ON  THE  SOUTH  SIDE.  99 

The  storm  cut  a  track  of  a  hundred  yards  as 
clean  as  if  a  mowing-machine  had  done  it." 

"  Who  suffered  on  the  South  Side  ?  "  I 
asked  craftily. 

"Babcocks;  everybody.  But  you  ought 
to  have  seen  how  the  North  Side  turned  out 
to  clear  the  wreck  and  house  the  homeless, 
and  the  food  and  clothes  and  household 
stuff  and  money  they  poured  over  the  Cap 
itol  to  get  the  nobs  on  their  feet  again. 
Trail  City  is  the  best  neighbor  in  this  State. 
There  's  no  north,  no  south,  no  west,  now ; 
nothing  but  one  united  town." 

"  Was  any  one  kiUed,  Sam  ?  " 

"  Yes  :  Esther's  little  chap,  that  she  car 
ried  around  with  the  crane,  was  blown 
across  the  prairie  and  picked  up  dead.  But 
the  crane  survived." 

"  Poor  old  Esther  !  What  did  Kate  say 
to  her?" 

Sam  looked  at  me,  startled. 

"Kate  would  say  something  to  comfort 
Esther." 

"  Well,  these  things  have  been  so  sudden, 


100      THE  SPIRIT  OF  AN  ILLINOIS  TOWN. 

none  of  us  know  how  to  take  hold  of  them 

yet." 

"  She  would  come  in  here  and  see  me,  too. 
I  want  you  to  call  her." 

"I  can't  call  her  in  the  night,  Seth. 
Have  a  little  consideration." 

With  mad  abandonment  of  all  self-con 
trol  I  caught  him  around  the  neck,  and 
pleaded  by  every  kind  memory  there  was 
between  us,  by  every  prospect  he  had  of 
joy  for  himself,  that  he  would  have  mercy 
on  me  and  tell  me  where  Kate  was. 

"  I  know  she  would  at  least  come  and 
look  at  me,"  I  said.  "  She  had  love  and 
a  kind  word  for  every  human  creature.  If 
you  tell  me  she  is  dead,  I  must  bear  it. 
But  if  she  has  forgotten  me  —  my  God ! 
then  I  am  forsaken." 

With  a  blubbering  cry  Sam  broke  down 
and  hugged  me  like  a  mother.  I  knew  that 
she  was  dead.  The  pungent  odor  of  cam 
phor  offended  my  nostrils,  and  my  eyes 
stared  at  him. 

"  But  what  have  they  done  with  her  ?  " 


ON  THE  SOUTH, SJDK. ;      >    ,  ;     10} 

"Bear  it,  my  boy,  bear  it.  She  was 
taken  out  of  this  house  four  days  ago." 

I  tried  to  climb  from  the  couch.  Had  I 
lain  there  a  dead  log  and  never  looked  my 
last  on  her  sweet  face?  My  partner  had 
no  need  to  force  me  back.  I  fell. 

"  You  know  how  it  is  with  me,  Sam." 

"  Yes,  I  know.     I  've  seen  it  all  along." 

"  God  Almighty !     Sam,  can  you  pray  ?  " 

"  No,  Seth,  I  can't." 

"  But  you  must." 

"  Wait  till  I  call  Jutberg ;  he  '11  fetch  a 
preacher." 

"  No  —  pray  quick.  I  learned  one  that 
wiU  do.  Thank  God  Almighty." 

"  What  for  ?  " 

"  For  everything." 

"  Well,  that 's  a  fine  prayer  !  " 

"  It 's  a  prayer  to  love.     Say  it." 

"  Thank  God  Almighty  for  everything." 
As  he  spoke  it,  I  said,  "  For  everything," 
like  one  who  lies  in  the  trough  of  the  sea 
and  watches  unattainable  cloud  mountains 
rush  overhead. 


1()2    ;  THE-  SPIRIT  QF  AN  ILLINOIS  TO  WN. 

"  For  everything."  Kate's  body  was 
underground.  "  For  everything."  Yes,  for 
that  touch  of  her  hand.  Yes,  for  that  cry 
in  the  storm.  Yes,  for  the  stainless  love 
of  my  stainless  girl.  A  peace  came  on  me 
that  passed  understanding.  Sam  was  wip 
ing  the  cold  sweat  from  my  face. 

"  Seth  !  are  you  dying  ?  "  he  whispered. 
"  Seth,  are  you  in  a  trance  ?  Why,  man, 
what  ails  you?  Your  face  is  like  a  spir 
it's." 

He  could  do  nothing  but  bathe  my  face 
and  fan  me.  And  as  he  fanned  and  his  ap 
prehension  settled,  he  poured  out,  unasked, 
that  chivalrous  worship  which  men  cannot 
withhold  from  their  ideals.  I  heard  his 
voice  away  in  the  distance,  or  it  buzzed 
close  in  my  ears.  The  facts  struck,  and  I 
put  them  one  by  one  in  a  vivid  row. 

"  She  was  the  grandest  sight  under  white 
flowers  that  you  ever  saw  lying  with  the 
frozen  smile.  The  women  say  there  was  n't 
a  bruise  on  her,  and  I  don't  believe  she 
knew  she  was  hurt.  She  was  just  caught 


ON  THE  SOUTH  SIDE.  103 

up  in  the  fiery  chariot  like  old  Elijah  —  or 
was  it  Abraham,  or  Moses  ? 

"  I  said  to  myself  again  and  again,  as  I 
looked  at  her,  'The  Spirit  of  this  Illinois 
town  ! '  Sprung  out  of  hardship,  buoyant 
and  full  of  resources,  big-hearted,  patient, 
great, — how  mightily  she  did  express  the 
soul  of  the  West ! 

"Oh,  this  house  has  seen  mourning. 
That  room  was  crowded  with  girls  on  their 
knees,  as  if  they  surrounded  a  shrine.  And 
then  came  the  young  men,  fathers  and  mo 
thers  and  children.  She  lay  in  state  like  a 
queen.  Near  you,  not  ten  feet  from  those 
closed  doors,  the  pageant  went  on.  The 
room  was  sweet  with  wild  flowers. 

"  Poor  old  Billy  and  his  coroner's  jury, 
when  she  was  first  brought  in,  made  a  ring 
of  crying  men  around  her.  I  never  saw 
such  a  sight  before.  Every  fellow  put  his 
face  in  his  handkerchief,  —  or,  if  he  did  n't 
have  a  handkerchief,  in  his  hat,  —  and 
shook.  To  see  her  lying  there  with  the 
dust  in  her  hair,  —  who  had  been  our  pride, 


104      THE  SPIRIT  OF  AN  ILLINOIS  TOWN. 

—  her  face,  that  had  always  lighted  up  at 
meeting  us,  white  and  holy-looking  — 

"  Billy  blew  his  nose,  and  said  to  them, 
'This  is  the  hardest  way  to  earn  a  living 
that  I  ever  tried,  boys.  I  'm  doing  some 
kicking  now  myself.' 

44  The  Spirit  of  this  town,  —  that 's  what 
she  was;  just  as  a  beautiful  ideal  woman 
expresses  the  Goddess  of  Liberty.  Pluck 
and  genius  and  humility,  boundless  energy 
and  vision,  and  a  personal  power  that  car 
ried  everything  before  it,  —  all  these  cov 
ered  with  the  soft  flesh  of  a  child  just 
turning  woman,  —  that  was  Kate. 

"  Esther 's  been  in  to  see  you,  Seth.  She 
stood  here,  her  big  coarse  Madonna  breast 
heaving.  She 's  cried  her  face  shapeless. 
To  top  all,  her  brother's  widow  has  taken 
the  remaining  children  and  moved  back 
home  to  Indiana.  'She  took  everything,' 
says  Esther.  '  She  did  n't  even  leave  me 
the  crane.' 

'"We've  had  hard  luck,  too,  Esther,' 
says  I.  '  But  I  hope  we  '11  save  our 


ON  THE  SOUTH  SIDE.  105 

Before  the  rising  sun  leaped  above  the 
prairie  edge  far  northeastward,  I  was  wak 
ened.  Sam  slept.  He  was  not  near  me 
and  could  not  have  touched  me.  I  was 
wakened  by  the  invisible  dear  hand  of  her 
I  love.  It  touched  and  turned  and  clung 
around  mine,  and  the  thrill  of  our  mar 
riage  went  through  me,  —  a  rising  tide  of 
life. 

Two  or  three  years  ago  I  encountered  in 
New  York  a  man  whom  I  had  known  as 
a  hard  drinker  abroad.  We  renewed  our 
acquaintance,  he  appearing  the  chastened 
angel  of  his  former  self.  There  was  some 
attraction  between  us  during  the  brief 
time  we  spent  together,  and  I  made  bold  to 
bridge  years  and  inquire  what  had  changed 
him.  His  name  has  nothing  to  do  with 
this  story,  which,  if  he  reads  it,  will  fore 
stall  his  pardon  for  setting  down  his  secret 
here.  I  have  never  repeated  it  with  my 
lips. 

He  turned  himself  squarely  and  looked 


106      THE  SPIRIT  OF  AN  ILLINOIS  TOWN. 

me  in  the  eye.     "Do  you  believe  in  what 
is  called  Spiritualism  ?  " 

"  No." 

"Neither  do  I.  But  do  you  believe  it 
is  impossible  for  departed  souls  to  come 
back?" 

"I  didn't  say  that.  I  only  meant  to 
assert  that  I  have  no  interest  in  spiritists, 
in  people  who  live  by  a  presumed  traffic 
with  the  other  world." 

"Neither  have  I.  But  this  queer  thing 
happened  to  me.  When  I  was  at  my  worst, 
I  went  one  night  with  some  fellows  to  what 
they  called  a  seance,  and  the  woman  fakir 
told  me  there  was  a  young  girl  at  my 
shoulder,  and  that  girl  made  signs  that  she 
had  come  to  be  my  guardian  angel.  The 
woman  described  her,  and,  my  friend,  I  re 
membered  the  girl.  She  was  a  lovely  child 
who  died  when  she  was  about  sixteen,  in 
my  native  town.  I  don't  know  what  inter 
est  she  had  in  me ;  I  was  older  than  she 
was.  I  couldn't  get  rid  of  it.  I  know 
she  is  with  me,  watching  everything  I  do. 


ON  THE  SOUTH  SIDE.  107 

Well  —  I  would  n't  give  up  that  conviction 
for  money."  He  turned  his  cigar  in  his 
fingers  and  laughed. 

"She  takes  good  care  of  me.  She 
doesn't  let  me  make  a  dog  of  myself  any 
more.  I  wouldn't  go  where  she  oughtn't 
to,  I  wouldn't  let  her  eyes  rest  on  what 
wasn't  fit  for  them  to  see,  for  anything 
that  could  be  offered  me.  Now  that  is 
what  has  changed  me :  I  'm  trying  to  live 
up  to  her.  But  I  never  have  talked  about 
it.  She 's  more  to  me  than  any  living 
woman.  Did  you  ever  hear  of  such  a  case  ? 
Do  you  understand  ?  " 

I  told  him  I  understood." 


THE  LITTLE  RENAULT. 


THE  LITTLE  RENAULT. 

AN    EPISODE     OF     TONTY'S     LIFE     IN     THE 
ILLINOIS  COUNTRY. 

"  And  a  Parisian  youth  named  fttienne  Renault." 

PARKMAN. 

I. 

THE  tenth  of  September  of  the  year  1680 
was  a  day  of  sunshine  and  languor  in  the 
great  village  of  the  Illinois.  Lodges  shaped 
like  the  covers  of  modern  emigrant  wagons, 
but  colossal  in  size,  and  having  an  opening 
left  along  the  top  for  smoke,  filled  a  wide 
plain  between  river  and  northern  bluffs. 

In  one  of  these  lodges  the  central  row 
of  half  a  dozen  fires  had  all  died  down 
to  ashes  except  one  pile  of  pink  embers. 
Above  it  the  air  reeled  with  that  tipsy 
tremulousness  which  heat  imparts.  An  old 
Indian  woman  sat  on  the  side  occupied  by 
the  blankets  of  her  family,  and  her  fingers 
flew  like  dark  streaks  among  rushes  which 


112  THE  LITTLE  RENAULT. 

she  was  braiding  into  a  mat  —  the  gray- 
green  shingle  of  every  Illinois  wigwam. 
A  French  lad  stood  beside  her  ready  to  go 
out  into  the  open  air. 

"My  mother,"  said  he,  using  the  name 
as  a  title  of  respect,  "  you  have  shown  me 
how  to  bind  an  arrowhead  to  the  shaft; 
now  I  will  show  you  how  to  dance." 

The  squaw,  half  understanding  his  imper 
fect  use  of  her  language,  looked  up,  smiling 
with  many  wrinkles,  willing  to  be  amused 
by  a  pretty  creature  who  avoided  Indian 
girls  and  came  for  counsel  and  chat  to  an 
old  woman. 

He  flung  himself  back,  brandishing  the 
finished  arrow,  and,  turning  on  one  foot, 
spun  around  and  around  at  the  very  verge 
of  the  fires.  It  was  like  the  wheeling  flight 
of  a  thistle  plume  through  the  open  lodge 
end.  Outside  he  still  whirled  and  sprung, 
keeping  a  tune  in  his  throat. 

Some  lazy  old  braves  were  gambling  with 
cherry  stones,  having  spread  a  blanket 
where  a  wigwam  shielded  them  from  the 


THE  LITTLE  RENAULT.  113 

afternoon  sun.  One  of  them  shot  a  cherry 
stone  after  the  flying,  singing  boy,  and  they 
all  grinned  with  good  humor  at  his  merry 
defiance. 

Naked  children  rolled  on  the  ground, 
stirring  up  with  kicks  puppies  as  fat  as 
themselves. 

The  lad  skipped  past  a  small  arbor  of 
bark  wherein  sat  an  Illinois  girl  and  her 
silent  lover.  He  checked  his  steps,  and 
glanced  back  at  them  with  that  wistful,  half- 
contemptuous  curiosity  of  youth;  and  as 
he  walked  on  lightly  his  flying  curls  settled 
to  thick,  black  clusters  around  his  neck. 
He  had  an  exquisite  feminine  throat  and 
face,  and  small,  sunburnt  hands.  His  dress 
was  the  buckskin  suit  of  frontiersmen,  yet 
it  outlined  a  figure  of  undulations,  unlike 
the  square  and  masculine  build  of  a  man 
standing  in  the  lodge  door  of  the  French. 

He  also  was  young,  though  his  face  had 
grown  thin  and  his  high  temples  sunken 
during  his  two  years'  exposure  in  the  wil 
derness  with  the  explorers  La  Salle  and 
Tonty. 


114  THE   LITTLE  RENAULT. 

This  Frenchman  could  see  the  whole 
Illinois  town  and  the  bluffs  across  the  river. 
A  mile  or  more  up-stream  one  bold  prom 
ontory  jutted  into  the  water,  its  glistening 
ribs  of  sandstone  half  clothed  with  cedars. 
This  was  the  Rock  of  St.  Louis,  which  La 
Salle  had  ordered  his  lieutenant  Tonty  to 
fortify.  It  stood  waiting  then,  as  it  stands 
waiting  to-day,  for  any  human  life  which 
may  briefly  swarm  over  it  and  disappear. 

Patches  of  cornfield  around  the  outskirts 
of  the  Indian  town  had  each  its  attendant 
squaw  with  her  brood  of  children,  driving 
off  crows  from  the  ripening  maize.  Farther 
away  was  the  tribe's  burial-place.  Some 
of  the  sleepers  were  hidden  from  sight  in 
the  ground ;  but  many  were  lifted  high  on 
platforms,  with  skins  or  blankets  for  their 
motionless  palls,  in  sun  and  dew  and  rain, 
the  voices  of  children  and  the  monotone  of 
the  river  forever  sounding  below  them. 
The  whole  country  was  mellow  with  that 
afternoon  light  of  the  year  which  we  call 
autumn  haze. 


THE  LITTLE  RENAULT.  115 

"  Runaway,"  said  the  man  in  the  lodge 
door,  smiling  at  the  sauntering  lad,  "  where 
hast  thou  been  idling  ?  " 

"In  the  old  mother's  lodge,  learning  to 
set  arrowheads.  Has  Monsieur  de  Tonty 
yet  returned,  Sieur  de  Boisrondet  ?  " 

"  He  is  coming  yonder  with  L'Esperance. 
The  fathers  are  now  settled  in  their  retreat. 
I  saw  no  hint  of  a  monk's  hood  in  the  canoe 
as  it  came  down." 

As  the  boy  turned  towards  the  river  Bois 
rondet  detected  on  his  face  the  sweet  eager 
ness  which  sometimes  moulds  the  features  of 
a  young  girl. 

Henri  de  Tonty  was  already  striding  up 
the  bank,  while  L'Esperance  pulled  ashore 
the  canoe  they  had  used. 

La  Salle's  lieutenant  had  at  that  time 
much  to  depress  him.  With  only  five  fol 
lowers,  including  two  priests,  he  was  hold 
ing  ground  in  the  midst  of  a  suspicious 
savage  tribe  until  La  Salle  could  return 
from  Fort  Frontenac  with  new  supplies  and 
more  men  for  their  western  venture. 


116  THE  LITTLE  RENAULT. 

Fort  Crevecoeur —  below  that  expansion 
of  the  Illinois  Kiver  called  the  Lake  of 
Pimitoui  —  had  been  destroyed  by  insur 
gents  and  deserters,  its  stores  stolen,  its 
magazine  emptied,  and  a  half-finished  ship 
left  to  rot.  Only  the  seed  of  future  enter 
prises  seemed  saved  in  this  Illinois  town 
where  Tonty  was  waiting  on  the  explorer's 
order  to  fortify  that  great  rock  jutting  into 
the  river.  He  had  first  thought  of  pitching 
his  camp  on  the  natural  stronghold,  and 
setting  up  palisades.  It  could  be  ascended 
at  one  corner  only,  and  might  be  held  by 
the  smallest  garrison.  But  that  would 
rouse  distrust  in  Indian  neighbors  whom 
the  French  could  never  spare.  He  there 
fore  built  his  lodge  like  any  other  wigwam 
in  the  midst  of  the  town. 

"  You  stopped  at  the  Rock  again,  as  you 
passed  it,  Monsieur  de  Tonty?"  inquired 
Boisrondet. 

"  Yes,"  replied  Tonty.  A  line  of  anxiety 
stood  upright  between  his  black  eyebrows. 
His  face  was  flushed  with  heat,  and  his  cap 


THE  LITTLE  RENAULT.  117 

and  clustering  hair  were  pushed  back  from 
his  forehead.  The  ends  of  his  mustache 
swept  down  his  face.  The  frontier  dress 
adorned  his  large  presence,  for  Tonty  un 
consciously  carried  with  him  always  the  air 
of  courts  and  battlefields. 

He  struck  dust  off  the  stiff  right  gauntlet 
which  covered  his  metal  hand. 

"Never  mind,  Boisrondet.  We  will  be 
gin  our  fortification  the  moment  Monsieur 
de  la  Salle  arrives.  The  severest  discipline 
in  any  campaign  is  waiting  for  reinforce 
ments.  On  that  rock  you  can  see  the  coun 
try  as  from  a  cloud,  except  the  prairie  south 
and  eastward  beyond  the  ravine  and  the 
woods.  If  the  fathers  were  of  my  mind 
they  would  be  making  their  retreat  on  the 
Rock." 

"And  what  spot  have  they  selected  for 
their  retreat?" 

"A  place  about  a  league  from  here,  not 
distant  from  the  sulphur  spring.  L'Espe- 
rance  helped  them  build  their  lodge,  and  we 
stocked  it  well  for  them.  They  themselves 


118  THE  LITTLE  RENAULT. 

made  a  cross  of  two  unhewn  limbs,  and 
planted  it  beside  their  door." 

"  I  do  congratulate  them,"  laughed  Bois- 
rondet,  "  that  they  are  able  to  make  a  reli 
gious  retreat  from  these  tiresome  heathen. 
There  were  never  two  priests  more  disgusted 
with  missionary  work  than  Father  Membre 
and  Father  Eibourde." 

The  peasant  L'Esperance,  stooping  in  gait 
and  grizzled  around  the  temples,  flung  some 
feathered  game  past  Tonty's  back  at  the 
listening  French  lad. 

"Thou  art  young,  thou  little  Kenault," 
he  called,  "  and  I  am  old  and  tired.  Dress 
these  birds  for  the  commandant's  supper." 

"  How  many  times  have  I  told  thee,  L'Es 
perance,"  exclaimed  Tonty,  turning  on  him, 
"not  to  be  constantly  shirking  upon  the 
little  Kenault." 

"  But  I  will  dress  them,"  cried  the  little 
Renault,  snatching  up  the  task.  "  It  is 
nothing  for  me  to  do,  Monsieur  de  Tonty." 

"  I  am  tired,"  repeated  L'Esperance  in  a 
mutter.  "  The  lad  is  ever  as  full  of  spring 


THE  LITTLE  RENAULT.  119 

as  a  grasshopper,  yet  must  I  bear  all  the 
wood,  and  dress  all  the  game,  and  be  the 
squaw  of  the  camp,  and  take  revilings  if  he 
lifts  a  finger  to  be  of  use." 

"  Growler,"  laughed  the  little  Renault, 
striking  at  the  old  man  with  the  birds,  "  go 
into  the  lodge  and  lie  down  to  sleep."  And 
L'Esperance  trotted  in  willingly,  while 
around  the  lodge  side,  with  the  hunting 
spoil,  trailed  that  youthful  treble  which  had 
so  often  waked  Tonty  and  Boisrondet  early 
in  dewy  mornings. 

The  two  men  looked  at  each  other  with 
silent  intelligence,  and  forbore  to  interfere. 
Neither  ever  spoke  to  the  other  about  the 
little  Eenault  as  a  girl,  though  Boisrondet 
had  been  present  when  her  father  put  her 
in  Tonty's  charge  at  Fort  Crevecceur.  The 
father  was  a  sickly  and  despondent  Parisian 
of  the  lesser  nobles  who  had  wedded  and 
survived  a  peasant  censitaire's  stout  daugh 
ter,  and  roved  from  trading-post  to  trading- 
post,  putting  his  orphan  into  boy's  attire 
that  he  might  keep  her  with  him  through 


120  THE  LITTLE  RENAULT. 

all  experiences.  His  selfish  life  ending  at 
Fort  Crevecceur,  he  desired  to  send  his  little 
Renault  home  to  Paris,  and  Tonty,  in  con 
sternation,  took  charge  of  her  jointly  with 
the  priests. 

To  Tonty  she  was  never  a  girl.  She  was 
a  free  and  vivid  spirit  —  pinkly  clothed  in 
flesh,  perhaps,  and  certainly  looking  through 
happy  black  eyes,  but  having  above  every 
thing  else  a  tiptoe  facility  in  dancing  over 
dangerous  spots. 

Crowded  among  men  at  Creveccaur,  she 
never  seemed  to  hear  any  brutal  jest.  The 
chastening  presence  of  priests  made  safer 
such  a  place  for  a  young  girl ;  yet  there  was 
in  her  a  boyish  quality  which  deceived  all 
but  her  father's  confidants.  She  had  been 
born  to  the  buckskin.  She  had  never  worn 
women's  drapery ;  her  round  childish  limbs 
spurned  any  thought  of  it.  The  beautiful 
fire  of  virgin  youth  seemed  to  flash  from 
her  person.  In  an  age  when  women  were 
pretty  toys  or  laden  beasts  she  lived  the  life 
of  a  bird  in  the  wilderness.  The  license  of 


THE  LITTLE  RENAULT.  121 

a  savage  camp  in  no  way  touched  her.  She 
had  never  suffered  deeply,  for  the  early  teens 
are  kind  to  natural  sorrow ;  and  all  visible 
things  around  her  she  mingled  in  her  mind 
with  invisible  saints. 

Tonty  lay  down  on  the  grass,  but  Boisron- 
det  still  stood  in  the  lodge  door. 

"  It  fills  me  with  envy  to  see  you  so  tired, 
monsieur,"  said  the  younger  man. 

"  It  was  necessary  that  one  of  us  should 
stay  and  guard  our  lodge  and  the  little  Ke- 
nault,"  replied  his  commandant.  "  But  this 
lying  like  lazy,  voiceless  dogs  at  a  lodge 
door  doth  unman  us.  Nothing  has  happened 
since  our  setting  forth  at  daybreak  ?  " 

"  Nothing,  except  that  the  cry  of  insects 
in  the  grass  never  seemed  so  loud  before." 

Tonty  smiled,  finding  in  himself  full  re 
sponse  to  this  impatient  restlessness.  But 
even  men  who  were  waiting  in  the  midst  of 
negative  dangers  might  take  some  delight 
in  that  mellow  picture  of  savage  life. 

The  river  was  cut  by  a  single  canoe  dart 
ing  from  the  farther  bank  across  to  the 


122  THE  LITTLE  RENAULT. 

town  with  impetuous  rush  like  a  water-fly. 
Boisrondet  noted  it,  and  thought  idly  that 
some  hunter  must  be  returning  empty- 
handed  and  sullen. 

The  little  Renault  could  be  heard  carol 
ing  at  the  other  end  of  the  lodge  while  she 
plucked  birds.  Their  lodge  was  divided 
into  three  apartments  by  stretched  blan 
kets,  and  hers  was  the  central  shrine. 
Tonty  and  Boisrondet  occupied  one  end,  and 
the  other  held  L'Espe*rance,  a  forge,  and 
some  tools  saved  from  the  pillage  of  Creve- 
co3ur.  The  servant  readily  yielded  his  fire 
to  the  necessity  of  cooking,  but  it  vexed  him 
daily  to  have  a  mere  boy  —  the  little  Re 
nault,  in  fact  —  set  apart  as  if  more  rev 
erend  than  a  priest.  The  priests,  look  you, 
had  not  been  above  sleeping  and  teaching 
in  the  lodges  of  the  very  Illinois. 

Tonty  lay  with  his  head  in  the  grass,  let 
ting  the  sun  dazzle  his  half-shut  eyes,  while 
he  piled  up  visions  of  this  Illinois  country 
like  those  transparent  clouds  pinnacled  in 
the  zenith.  His  two  years  in  the  wilderness 


THE  LITTLE  RENAULT.  123 

with  La  Salle  had  been  a  constantly  rising 
tide  of  misfortune.  But  tides  are  obliged 
to  ebb,  and  this  silence  must  be  the  turn. 
La  Salle  had  started  to  Fort  Frontenac  in 
March.  He  was  surely  retracing  the  five 
hundred  leagues  with  supplies.  La  Salle 
could  outmarch  any  man  of  New  France. 

They  would  soon  fortify  the  Rock  and 
make  it  a  feudal  castle  to  these  timid  sav 
ages.  Neighboring  tribes  would  gather 
close  and  help  to  form  a  strong  principal 
ity.  It  would  be  easy  from  this  vantage- 
point  to  penetrate  that  unexplored  river 
called  the  Mississippi. 

But  a  yell  rent  this  structure  of  thought 
like  a  tongue  of  lightning,  and  Tonty 
bounded  to  his  feet.  Calls  and  cries 
streamed  in  every  direction,  as  if  the  whole 
Indian  town  had  become  a  shower  of  me 
teoric  voices.  The  women  started  from 
their  cornfields,  wailing  in  alarm,  and 
naked  children  sprawled  and  uttered  the 
echo  of  woe.  Cherry  stones  and  the  stakes 
won  thereby  were  forgotten.  The  hunter 


124  THE  LITTLE  RENAULT. 

who  had  crossed  the  river  was  surrounded 
with  lamentation. 

Tonty  found  his  followers  at  his  side  al 
most  as  soon  as  the  yell  broke  out.  They 
had  lived  so  long  on  the  edge  of  peril  that 
union  was  their  first  instinct.  L'Esperance 
was  wide  awake.  Tonty  put  the  little  Re 
nault  between  Boisrondet  and  himself,  and 
as  the  savage  mob  surrounded  them  he  un 
consciously  held  her  with  his  sound  arm. 
Little  Renault's  curls  were  full  of  bird 
down,  but  her  black  eyes  were  full  of  cour 
age. 

"  What  is  the  matter  ?"  demanded  Tonty 
in  imperfect  Illinois. 

"  The  Iroquois  are  coming !  The  Iro- 
quois  are  marching  here  to  eat  us  up." 

"  The  Iroquois,"  screamed  a  wrinkled 
old  warrior,  "  are  your  allies.  They  are  at 
peace  with  all  the  French.  They  are  your 
friends.  But  you  are  no  friends  of  ours. 
Children,  these  Frenchmen  have  come  here 
to  betray  us.  They  have  brought  the  Iro 
quois  upon  us." 


THE  LITTLE  RENAULT.  125 

Out  came  the  knives,  Tonty  with  iron- 
handed  arm  pushing  them  back  —  persuad 
ing,  shouting.  The  Indians  drowned  his 
voice  with  yells.  The  very  squaws  ran 
with  firebrands.  Some  of  the  furious  mul 
titude  fell  upon  the  French  lodge,  and  its 
mats  flew  in  every  direction.  From  the 
midst  of  falling  poles  ran  sinewy  red-bodied 
fellows  dragging  the  tools  and  heavy  forge 
which  Tonty  and  his  men  had  brought  with 
such  pains  through  the  wilderness.  The 
splash  of  the  clinking  mass  in  the  river  tes 
tified  to  their  final  use. 

The  lives  of  the  Frenchmen  standing  back 
to  back  were  scarcely  a  breath  long.  Ton- 
ty's  stiff  gauntlet  kept  the  knives  off,  and  he 
made  his  voice  heard  through  the  howling. 

"  If  you  kill  us  you  kill  yourselves.  I 
tell  you  we  are  your  friends.  If  you  kill 
us  your  French  father  will  not  leave  a  man 
of  you  alive.  We  brought  no  invaders  to 
your  country.  We  know  nothing  about  the 
Iroquois.  But  since  they  have  come,  I  tell 
you  we  will  go  with  you  to  fight  them." 


n. 

"  FULL  of  intelligence  and  courage,"  as  a 
priest  has  described  Tonty  in  this  strait,  his 
imperfect  Illinois  made  the  Indians  slow  to 
understand  him.  But  as  they  understood, 
their  tense  threats  relaxed ;  and  with  con 
tinued  lamentation  they  turned  to  break  up 
the  camp. 

The  canoes  were  pushed  out  and  filled 
with  women,  children,  and  provisions. 
Nearly  all  the  young  braves  were  away  in 
a  war-party  in  the  northwest.  The  three 
or  four  hundred  remaining  were  the  oldest 
or  youngest  warriors.  The  Illinois  Indian 
at  his  best  estate  was  no  model  of  courage. 
About  sixty  men  accompanied  the  retreat 
ing  town  to  a  flat,  wooded  island  down  the 
river,  where  temporary  lodges  could  be  set 
up  and  defended. 

The  remainder  at  once  began  to  prepare 


THE  LITTLE  RENAULT.  127 

for  battle.  They  brought  wood  and  built 
great  fires  along  the  shore.  Weapons  were 
made  ready,  bodies  greased  and  painted, 
and  a  kind  of  passover  meal  eaten. 

The  sun  went  down,  and  mists  brooded 
on  the  river,  but  there  was  no  silence  all 
that  night.  The  Illinois  sang  war-songs 
and  danced  war-dances  under  the  slow  and 
majestic  march  of  the  stars.  Their  fires 
shone  on  the  water,  and  their  dark,  leaping 
bodies  threw  shadows  across  the  deserted 
town. 

Tonty  and  Boisrondet  sat  apart,  also 
sleepless,  taking  counsel  together.  L'Espe*- 
rance  had  been  missing  since  the  tumult  of 
embarking.  He,  also,  had  taken  a  canoe 
and  slipped  away.  Both  masters  were  se 
vere  on  him  until  they  found  next  forenoon 
that  he  only  went  to  bring  the  priests  back, 
lest  some  of  his  faith  should  die  without 
absolution. 

Boisrondet  had  brought  some  of  the  scat 
tered  mats  for  the  little  Kenault,  and  she 
hid  in  them  as  in  a  nest  from  the  growing 


128  THE  LITTLE  RENAULT. 

chill  of  night,  sleeping  like  some  sylvan 
creature  reliant  on  the  power  that  sheltered 
it. 

Scouts  sent  out  in  darkness  came  back  at 
early  morning  with  news.  They  had  seen 
the  army  of  Iroquois  creeping  under  cover 
of  woods,  armed  with  guns  and  pistols,  and 
carrying  rawhide  bucklers.  They  had  seen, 
they  said,  —  scowling  aside  at  the  French 
men,  —  La  Salle  himself  leading  the  in 
vaders.  And  at  that  the  whole  camp  again 
rushed  to  take  Tonty  and  his  followers  by 
the  throat. 

"  If  all  the  Iroquois  had  stolen  French 
clothes  you  would  believe  there  were  many 
Monsieur  de  la  Salles  coming  to  fight  you," 
declared  Tonty.  "He  does  not  turn  upon 
his  brothers  as  you  do.  I  tell  you  we  will 
go  with  you  to  fight  the  Iroquois." 

The  frenzied  tribe  at  once  threw  them 
selves  into  their  canoes  with  these  allies  and 
crossed  the  river. 

It  seemed  to  both  guardians  that  nothing 
could  be  done  with  the  little  Renault  except 


THE  LITTLE  RENAULT.  129 

to  carry  her  into  the  action.  Boisrondet 
gave  a  bitter  thought  to  the  selfishness  of 
her  father,  and  Tonty  regretted  not  sending 
her  with  the  priests.  But  life  in  her  rose 
to  the  occasion.  Her  moccasins  moved  in 
swift  unison  with  Tonty's  and  Boisrondet's 
up  the  wooded  hill  and  across  a  tangled 
ridge.  Her  buckskin  blouse  was  scratched 
by  briars,  but  she  herself  went  laughing 
and  rose  -  lipped  like  Diana,  carrying  a 
weapon  and  eager  for  game.  It  seemed 
to  Boisrondet  the  cruelest  thing  ever  done, 
this  shouldering  a  child  into  battle  with 
wolfish  men. 

Few  of  the  Illinois  Indians  had  guns. 
They  were  armed  with  bows  and  arrows. 
They  swarmed  out  on  the  prairie  to  attack 
the  Iroquois,  who  came  from  covert  with 
whoops  and  prancings,  and  roar  of  firearms 
and  low  song  of  flying  shaft  mixed  with 
savage  battle-cries. 

At  the  instant  of  encounter  Tonty  saw 
how  it  must  go  with  his  allies.  They  were 
no  match  for  the  Iroquois  with  all  forces 


130  THE  LITTLE  RENAULT. 

mustered,  and  this  fragment  of  them  began 
to  give  back  even  in  the  fury  of  onset. 

He  offered  to  carry  a  wampum  belt  to  the 
Iroquois  and  to  try  to  stop  the  fight,  and 
the  leaders  gladly  gave  him  the  flag  of  truce 
and  sent  a  young  brave  with  him. 

Tonty  started  out  across  the  open  field 
towards  the  smoking  guns  of  the  Iroquois 
with  this  Indian  at  his  right  side.  He  felt 
a  touch  on  his  left  elbow,  and  turned  his 
eyes  to  find  little  Eenault  and  Boisrondet 
keeping  abreast  of  him.  He  stopped  and 
commanded :  — 

"  Go  back  —  both  of  you.  Boisrondet, 
your  orders  were  to  take  care  of  the  lad." 

"  Monsieur,"  said  Boisrondet,  to  the  spat 
of  Iroquois  bullets  on  the  prairie  sod  all 
around  them,  "  the  little  Renault  would  not 
be  kept  back." 

"  Monsieur  de  Tonty,  we  go  with  you," 
she  said. 

"  You  will  go  back,"  repeated  Tonty, 
meeting  the  living  light  of  her  eyes  with 
military  decision.  "Boisrondet,  pick  up 


THE  LITTLE  RENAULT.  131 

the  lad  and  carry  him  back.  Your  duty  as 
a  soldier  and  a  gentleman  is  to  keep  him 
out  of  this  danger." 

Boisrondet  seized  and  lifted  the  little  Ke- 
nault  in  his  arms.  She  struggled  with  all 
an  untamed  creature's  physical  repugnance 
to  handling,  and  with  all  a  woman's  despair 
at  being  dragged  from  the  object  to  which 
she  clings.  In  her  frenzy  she  struck  Bois 
rondet  upon  his  bulging  forehead  with  no 
unmuscular  fist. 

"  Go  back  with  them,"  said  Tonty  to  the 
willing  young  Indian.  And  running  on 
alone,  he  did  not  see  the  Iroquois  arrow 
which  stooped,  jarred,  and  stood  upright  in 
the  girl's  shoulder. 

The  young  Indian  alone  saw  it,  and 
pulled  it  out  as  he  hurried  at  the  heels  of 
Boisrondet,  who  felt  his  load  relaxing  while 
he  panted  and  trampled  through  resin  weed 
and  yellow  flowers  back  to  the  Illinois  lines. 

Tonty  had  left  his  gun  when  he  took  up 
the  belt  of  peace.  He  held  the  wampum 
strip  as  high  as  his  arm  could  reach,  and 


132  THE  LITTLE   RENAULT. 

rushed  directly  upon  the  muzzles  pointed 
at  him.  His  dark  skin  and  frontiersman's 
dress  scarcely  distinguished  him  from  the 
savage  mob  which  closed  around  him,  and 
before  he  could  speak  one  of  the  Iroquois 
warriors  stabbed  him  in  the  side.  The 
knife  struck  a  rib,  and  made  only  a  deep 
gash  instead  of  killing  him.  He  half  fell, 
but  caught  himself,  and  opened  lips  from 
which  blood,  not  words,  gushed  first.  He 
held  up  and  shook  the  wampum  belt,  and 
an  Iroquois  chief  shouted  that  he  must  be  a 
Frenchman,  since  his  ears  were  not  pierced. 
This  brought  some  about  him  who  opened 
his  shirt  and  tried  to  stop  the  wound.  But 
the  great  howling  multitude  —  which  an 
Indian  army  must  become  before  it  can  act 
as  an  engine  of  war — was  for  finishing 
him. 

Tonty  spat  the  blood  from  his  mouth, 
and  declared  to  them  that  the  Illinois  were 
under  the  protection  of  the  French  king 
and  governor.  He  demanded  that  they 
should  be  let  alone. 


THE  LITTLE  RENAULT.  133 

One  of  the  braves  snatched  Tonty's  cap 
and  waved  it  high  on  a  gun.  At  that  the 
half  -  suspended  firing  broke  out  more 
fiercely  than  ever.  He  urged  and  de 
manded  with  all  his  strength.  A  cry  rose 
in  front  that  the  Illinois  were  advancing, 
and  that  instant  Tonty  felt  a  hand  grasp 
and  twist  his  scalp-lock.  He  looked  over 
his  shoulder  at  the  fierce  face  of  a  Seneca 
chief  ;  but  an  Onondaga  knocked  the  scalp 
ing  knife  from  the  Seneca's  hand. 

Tonty  was  spun  in  a  whirlwind  of  clamor 
and  threats,  putting  his  own  shout  against 
the  noise  of  savage  throats,  and  proclaiming 
that  the  Illinois  had  countless  Frenchmen 
to  fight  with  or  to  avenge  them. 

No  one  ever  worked  with  imperious  cour 
age  more  successfully  on  the  temper  of  In 
dians.  The  quarrel  sank  to  his  demands. 
Old  men  ran  to  stop  the  young  braves  from 
firing. 

The  little  Kenault  had  been  docile,  and 
walked  willingly  up  the  ridge  with  Bois- 
rondet.  She  told  him  she  was  a'shamed  of 


134  THE  LITTLE   RENAULT. 

her  behavior  and  of  keeping  him  out  of  the 
action.  But  she  said  nothing  about  her 
wound  to  a  man  who  would  insist  upon 
examining  it.  The  arrow  stab  in  her  buck 
skin  blouse  gave  no  vent  to  the  blood,  for 
that  had  taken  to  moving  in  a  slow  trickle 
down  her  back.  Boisrondet,  trembling  be 
twixt  chagrin  and  rapture,  said  little,  but 
kept  his  gaze  upon  her  and  around  her  like 
an  atmosphere  of  protection. 

She  sat  down  facing  the  firing,  and  Bois 
rondet  stood  by  her,  —  on  his  part  seeing 
neither  smoke  nor  moving  figures,  neither 
dew  on  the  turf  nor  distant  blue  strips  of 
forest. 

Two  Recollet  capotes  moved  down  among 
the  waiting  Illinois,  for  L'Esperance  had 
not  tarried  about  bringing  the  priests. 
They  hurried  to  meet  Tonty.  He  came 
staggering  back  across  the  open  prairie, 
holding  up  an  Iroquois  wampum  belt  as 
the  sign  of  his  success. 

The  little  Renault  let  her  restrained 
breath  escape  in  a  sob. 


THE  LITTLE  RENAULT.  135 

"  He  is  safe !  But  lie  is  pitching  for 
ward  !  He  is  wounded,  monsieur !  They 
have  hurt  him  !  " 

She  herself  reeled  as  Tonty  did  before 
the  priests  received  him  in  their  arms  ;  and 
a  deadly  sickness,  the  like  of  which  the 
little  Eenault  had  never  felt  before,  brought 
her  head  down  among  the  knotty  herbage 
of  the  hill. 


III. 

THE  clear  September  morning  seemed  to 
stream  around  Tonty's  eyes  in  long  pennons 
of  flame  as  Father  Ribourde  and  Father 
Membre  helped  him  to  reach  his  allies. 
He  was  still  under  a  nightmare,  and  strug 
gled  for  speech  to  warn  his  weak  people  of 
the  treacherous  enemy  who  were  checked 
only  by  his  threats.  He  held  up  the  wam 
pum  belt  and  told  the  Illinois  that  it  was  an 
Iroquois  peace,  but  it  would  be  wisdom  on 
their  part  to  retreat  from  an  Iroquois  peace. 
If  they  and  their  families  withdrew  down  the 
river,  leaving  some  of  their  wise  men  in  sight 
of  signals,  he  would  treat  with  the  invaders 
and  try  to  induce  them  to  leave  the  country. 

The  small  army  which  had  escaped  de 
feat  could  indeed  see  nothing  better  to  do. 
They  recrossed  the  river  to  their  town,  and 
set  the  lodges  on  fire,  thankful  for  any 
chance  of  saving  their  national  life. 


THE  LITTLE  RENAULT.  137 

An  Indian  might  have  little  sentiment 
about  his  lodge,  which  was  only  a  shelter, 
and  never  contained  very  much  besides  the 
row  of  fires.  If  destroyed,  it  could  be  re 
built  anywhere  with  new  poles  and  mats. 
But  his  dead,  on  platform  or  in  earth,  were 
sacred  relics  to  him.  In  the  fleet  of  canoes 
retreating  down  the  Illinois  Kiver  many  a 
shaven,  dusky  head  was  turned,  many  a 
mournful  eye  rested  on  that  spot  which 
could  be  no  longer  kept,  and  might  soon  be 
desecrated  by  a  wolfish  enemy. 

Boisrondet  and  L'Esperance,  with  the 
Recollet  friars,  set  to  work  to  repair  their 
own  lodge,  which  the  Illinois  had  torn  down. 
Here  the  priests  gave  Tonty's  wound  a 
better  dressing  than  that  of  his  wild  sur 
geons,  and  the  little  Renault  lay  on  her 
blanket  at  a  distance  from  him,  seeking 
no  remedy  for  her  stiff  hurt  except  to  keep 
him  in  her  sight. 

Tonty  had  made  the  Iroquois  pause  ;  but 
they  promptly  crossed  the  river  and  prowled 
over  that  great  field  of  smoking  lodges. 


138  THE  LITTLE  RENAULT. 

They  took  such  poles  and  posts  as  had  not 
burned,  and  built  themselves  a  rough  fort 
in  the  midst  of  the  abandoned  town. 

Boisrondet  found  some  blankets  which  he 
hung  around  the  little  Renault  when  night 
came.  But  she  needed  no  privacy  for  sleep. 
He  thought  the  prowling  and  yelling  of 
the  Iroquois  made  her  toss,  and  draw  her 
breath  in  tremulous  starts.  In  the  morn 
ing  he  was  careful  to  get  food  for  her, 
while  he  let  L'Esperance  serve  Tonty  and 
the  priests.  The  Illinois  had  carried  away 
much  of  their  corn  from  the  underground 
storehouses,  but  their  ungathered  fields  still 
stood ;  and  while  the  invaders  trampled  the 
crop,  L'Esperance  found  some  supplies  for 
the  inmates  of  Tonty's  lodge.  The  little 
Renault  awoke  with  fever,  but  that  day  was 
so  full  of  effort  and  danger  that  the  men, 
her  guardians,  overlooked  her  state. 

They  were  called  to  a  council  by  the 
savages.  Tonty  rose  up  and  went  with  his 
followers  into  the  sapling  fort. 

On   the   girl's   fever-swimming  eyes   the 


THE  LITTLE   RENAULT.  139 

circle  of  hideous  Iroquois  faces  and  half- 
naked  bodies  made  grotesque  impression. 

Tonty  sat  in  front  of  her,  on  each  side  of 
him  a  priest.  When  he  had  to  rise  they 
helped  him ;  but  on  his  feet  he  was  like 
the  cliff  across  the  river.  His  voice  kept 
respect  hovering  in  all  those  glittering  and 
restless  eyes,  though  a  chief  began  the  coun 
cil  by  asking  him  insolently  where  were  all 
the  Illinois  warriors  he  had  boasted  of,  and 
the  army  of  French  who  would  keep  the 
Iroquois  braves  from  eating  the  flesh  of  a 
worthless  tribe. 

Tonty  repeated  the  threats  and  demands 
he  had  before  made.  Six  packs  of  beaver 
skins  were  laid  before  him.  A  chief  prof 
fered  them  piecemeal.  Two  were  to  prom 
ise  that  the  Iroquois  would  not  eat  the 
children  of  the  French  —  those  cowardly 
Illinois ;  a  third  was  the  plaster  which  must 
heal  Tonty's  wound ;  the  fourth  was  oil  for 
anointing  all  French  joints  present  at  the 
council;  the  fifth  said  the  sun  was  bright, 
and  it  was  a  good  day  to  begin  a  journey ; 


140  TEE  LITTLE  RENAULT. 

and  the  last  ordered  the  French  to  arise  and 
leave  the  Illinois  country. 

Tonty  again  came  to  his  feet,  and 
thanked  his  red  brothers  for  their  gift. 
But  he  desired  to  know  when  they  them 
selves  meant  to  leave  the  Illinois  country. 

Every  copper-hued  face  turned  darker; 
every  guttural  voice  broke  out,  in  presence 
of  the  pledge  just  made,  with  a  declaration 
that  their  tribe  would  eat  Illinois  flesh  be 
fore  they  went. 

Tonty  kicked  the  pack  of  beaver  skins 
from  him.  It  was  their  own  method  of 
expressing  contempt  for  a  one-sided  treaty. 

The  Indians  sprang  up  and  drove  his 
party  out  with  drawn  knives.  The  little 
Kenault,  hurried  by  Boisrondet,  turned  to 
see  Tonty  come  last  from  the  palisade,  still 
restraining  the  savages  by  the  threat  they 
dared  not  disregard.  He  was  determined 
to  stand  to  the  last  risk  between  them  and 
the  tribe  they  had  invaded. 

During  that  day  L'Esperance  felt  that  he 
was  throwing  his  scalp  at  the  Iroquois  by 


THE  LITTLE  RENAULT.  141 

the  frequent  trips  he  made  to  the  river,  and 
all  on  account  of  that  lad  pampered  among 
blankets,  who  would  be  constantly  laving, 
and  bathing,  and  drinking,  for  lack  of  other 
amusement. 

Clean  as  a  flower  at  all  times,  the  little 
Renault  was  appalled  to  discover  something 
like  infection  in  her  flesh,  which  she  could 
not  soak  out.  As  the  day  wore  to  a  close, 
her  illness  so  increased  that  she  was  forced 
to  look  around  the  blanket  with  glittering 
eyes,  and  whisper  for  the  help  of  Father  Ri- 
bourde.  As  shy  of  handling  as  a  fawn,  aver 
sion  even  to  his  touch  made  her  face  piteous. 

"  Father,  I  cannot  endure  any  longer  to 
be  filled  with  sickness  from  an  arrow 
wound,"  she  pleaded  in  excuse  for  the  at 
tendance  craved.  "  There  is  something 
foul  in  my  shoulder  which  I  cannot  wash 
away." 

The  buckskin  was  drawn  partly  off ;  and 
though  she  had  covered  herself,  the  stain 
of  shame  deepened  the  pink  of  her  angelic 
flesh  as  she  submitted  to  the  surgeon. 


142  THE  LITTLE  RENAULT. 

"  Why  did  you  not  speak  of  a  wound 
before  ?  "  demanded  Father  Ribourde. 

"  My  father,  I  could  not." 

The  priest's  outcry  brought  his  brother 
Recollet  and  Tonty  behind  the  blanket,  and 
jealously,  though  reluctantly,  at  their  heels, 
Boisrondet.  He  took  note  of  the  cower 
ing,  blush-burned  girl ;  but  Tonty  saw  only 
the  green-rimmed  wound  on  the  little  lad's 
shoulder. 

"  It  was  a  poisoned  arrow,"  pronounced 
Father  Membre. 

At  that  Boisrondet  wheeled  and  rushed 
into  the  open  air  cursing  himself,  and  Fa 
ther  Membre  followed  close  by  his  ear  re 
buking  him.  In  many  a  victim  the  wound 
must  have  worked  death  within  the  time 
she  had  suffered,  but  her  strong  health  and 
wholesome  blood  resisted.  No  medicine,  no 
surgeon's  skill,  could  now  take  the  burning 
foulness  out.  The  poison  was  in  her  eyes ; 
it  beat  in  her  wrist  and  hammered  in  her 
brain. 

"  Poor  little  lad  !  "  groaned  Tonty.     "  I 


THE   LITTLE   RENAULT.  143 

wish  I  could  take  this  from  thee  and  add  it 
to  my  dagger  cut.  We  have  all  been  bad 
guardians.  The  boy  would  not  be  sacrificed 
thus  if  Monsieur  de  la  Salle  had  been 
here." 

"  Must  I  die,  father  ?  "  inquired  the  little 
"Renault,  lifting  her  eyes  to  the  priest's  sor 
rowful  face  when  Tonty  no  longer  stood  by. 

"  The  lives  of  all  of  us  are  in  the  hands 
of  God,"  he  answered.  But  while  he 
dressed  the  gangrened  spot  he  examined 
her  conscience,  and  finished  by  giving  her 
absolution. 

"  The  only  penance  I  shall  lay  upon  thee, 
my  daughter,"  murmured  on  his  priestly 
monotone,  "  is  to  bear  with  patience  such 
suffering  as  may  result  from  this  misfor 
tune." 

He  added  tales  of  martyrs  and  trium 
phant  saints  to  keep  from  her  ear  the  stormy 
agony  of  Boisrondet  and  Father  Membre's 
remonstrances  outside  the  lodge. 

The  Iroquois  allowed  another  night  to 
pass,  and  then  ordered  the  French  to  be 


144  THE  LITTLE   RENAULT. 

gone,  giving  them  a  leaky  canoe  for  their 
voyage. 

Tonty  had  done  all  he  could  to  protect 
the  timid  tribe  in  retreat.  He  saw  that  he 
must  now  set  off  up-river,  so  the  boat  was 
provided  with  some  corn  and  blankets  and 
the  guns  of  his  men.  Already  the  Iroquois 
were  busy  tearing  down  the  scaffoldings  of 
the  dead.  The  plain,  so  lately  a  peaceful 
barbarian  city,  smouldered  in  little  heaps. 
Groups  of  Iroquois  paused  in  their  work  of 
desecration  to  howl  a  derisive  adieu  to  the 
voyagers. 

As  the  canoe  passed  the  foot  of  the  Eock, 
Tonty  looked  up  its  height,  hopeless  —  so 
poorly  do  we  gauge  the  future  —  of  ever 
planting  the  French  flag  on  its  summit. 


IV. 


THE  canoe  was  so  leaky  that  it  had  to  be 
pulled  ashore  when  Tonty's  party  had  rowed 
up-stream  about  twenty-five  miles.  They 
camped  early  in  the  afternoon.  The  two 
priests  built  a  fire,  while  Boisrondet  and 
L'Espe*rance  cut  branches,  and  with  these 
and  blankets  made  a  couple  of  knotty  mat 
tresses  on  which  Tonty  and  the  little  Re 
nault  could  rest  with  their  feet  towards  the 
blaze.  Tonty's  wound  was  again  bleeding. 
After  efforts  to  mend  the  boat  he  dropped 
upon  his  pallet  in  deadly  sickness,  and  lay 
there  while  the  autumn  afternoon  dimmed 
and  faded  out  as  if  the  smile  of  God  were 
being  withdrawn  from  the  world. 

Father  Ribourde  and  Father  Membre 
tended  both  patients  with  all  their  mon 
astic  skill.  The  little  Renault  was  full  of 
delirious  laughter.  L'Esperance,  while  he 


146  THE  LITTLE  RENAULT. 

labored  on  the  boat  with  such  calking  as  the 
woods  afforded,  groaned  over  the  lad's  state 
and  reproached  himself  for  ever  grudging 
the  child  service.  Boisrondet  worked  at 
dragging  fuel  as  if  his  one  desire  was  to  ex 
haust  himself  and  die.  As  night  came  on 
he  piled  a  fire  of  huge  size,  though  it  was  a 
dangerous  beacon,  for  they  were  camped  on 
a  flat  and  wooded  strip  some  distance  from 
sheltering  bluffs,  and  their  light  perhaps 
drew  other  prowlers  than  the  Iroquois. 
During  the  night  there  were  stirrings  in 
thickets,  and  once  a  soft  dip  or  two  in  the 
river,  as  if  a  canoe  paddle  had  incautiously 
lapsed  to  its  usual  motion. 

After  a  meagre  supper  Father  Membre 
and  L'Esperance  lay  down  to  sleep  while 
Father  Bibourde  and  Boisrondet  kept 
guard.  The  weather  was  changing,  and  a 
chill  wind  swept  along  the  river  valley.  It 
continually  scattered  the  little  Renault's 
curls  over  her  fever-swollen  face,  and  Bois 
rondet,  unable  to  endure  this,  built  up  a 
screen  of  brush.  He  sat  on  the  ground 


THE  LITTLE  RENAULT.  147 

beside  her  pallet,  and  Father  Ribourde  sat 
at  the  other  side,  though  the  priest  rose  at 
intervals  and  examined  Tonty. 

The  whole  pile  of  burning  logs  was 
heaped  between  the  little  Renault  and 
Tonty.  He  lay  opposite  her,  with  his  feet, 
also,  to  the  fire,  sleeping  as  only  exhausted 
frontiersmen  can  sleep.  Nothing  in  woods 
or  stooping  clouds,  or  in  the  outcry  of  spir 
its  around  him,  reached  his  consciousness 
all  that  night.  He  was  suspended  from  the 
world  in  a  swoon  of  sleep.  His  swarthiness 
was  so  blanched  by  loss  of  blood  that  his 
black  hair  and  mustache  startled  the  eye. 
Father  Ribourde  listened  for  his  breath, 
into  such  deep  recesses  had  his  physical 
life  made  its  retreat. 

But  the  girl  on  the  opposite  side  of  the 
fire  brought  echoes  from  the  darkness. 
She  sang.  She  thought  she  was  dancing 
in  a  whirl  along  peaks,  or  fishing  in  the 
river  with  L'Esperance,  or  shooting  arrows 
at  a  mark  with  young  Indians,  or  moving 
across  the  prairie  with  Tonty  on  his  errand 


148  THE  LITTLE  RENAULT. 

to  the  Iroquois.  Through  every  act  ran 
gladness.  She  exulted  upward  through  the 
fire-gilt  branches. 

"  O  Mother  of  God,  what  joy  thou  hast 
given  me!  If  there  had  been  no  Mon 
sieur  de  Tonty  —  think  of  that !  Then  I 
should  have  crouched  like  fields  blackened 
in  frost.  Then  I  should  not  know  what  life 
is.  How  desolate  —  to  be  without  Monsieur 
de  Tonty !  The  savages,  and  the  wretches 
at  Crevecceur,  they  are  all  like  grasshoppers 
beside  him.  I  would  rather  have  him  call 
me  his  little  lad  than  be  queen  of  France." 

The  priest's  soothing  had  no  effect  on 
her  fever-driven  imagination.  She  drank 
when  he  held  a  cup  to  her  mouth,  and  stared 
at  him,  still  laughing.  But  during  several 
hours  there  was  scarcely  a  pause  in  her  talk 
of  Tonty. 

Boisrondet  sat  behind  her  back  —  for  she 
lay  upon  her  sound  shoulder  —  and  endured 
all  this.  The  flower  of  martyrdom  and  the 
flower  of  love  bloomed  there  before  the 
priest  in  the  dank  woods  beside  the  collaps- 


THE  LITTLE  RENAULT.  149 

ing  camp-fire.  The  lonesome,  low  wail  of 
wind  was  contradicted  by  the  little  Re- 
nault's  glad  monotone.  All  the  innocent 
thoughts  which  a  girl  pours  out  to  her 
mother  this  motherless  girl  poured  out  to 
Tonty.  It  was  a  confession  more  sacred 
than  any  made  to  a  priest.  Boisrondet  put 
his  hands  upon  his  ears. 

Ruddy  embers  shone  on  Father  Membre 
and  L'Espe'rance,  Recollet's  capote  and  ser 
vant's  shaggy  dress  rising  and  falling  in 
unison  throughout  the  night ;  for  the  watch 
ers  did  not  wake  them  at  all. 

When  Father  Bibourde  rose  up  again 
to  look  at  Tonty,  Boisrondet  crept  to  his 
place  and  sat  by  the  delirious  girl's  head. 
The  priest  said  nothing,  and  accepted  the 
change.  It  became  his  care  to  keep  the 
little  Renault  from  jarring  her  wound  with 
her  groping  hands. 

Boisrondet's  eyes  may  have  pierced  the 
floating  veil  of  delirium  to  her  consciousness. 
The  smile  of  vague  happiness  which  she  gave 
the  priest  turned  to  a  look  of  solicitude. 


150  THE  LITTLE   RENAULT. 

"  Sieur  de  Boisrondet,  did  I  hurt  you?  " 
she  cried. 

He  shook  his  head. 

"  Forgive  the  blow." 

"I  was  grateful  for  it,"  muttered  Bois 
rondet. 

Still  his  heart-broken  eyes  pierced  the 
pavilion  of  her  gladness,  and  she  cried  out 
again :  — 

"  Sieur  de  Boisrondet,  did  I  hurt  you  ?  " 

"  No,  no,  no  !  " 

"  Forgive  the  blow." 

"  O  saints  in  heaven  !  "  the  man  groaned, 
holding  his  head  in  his  hands. 

"How  good  is  God,"  said  the  little  Re 
nault,  returning  to  her  heights,  "  who  made 
all  his  creatures  so  happy !  My  Monsieur 
de  Tonty,  my  Monsieur  de  Tonty  "  —  So 
she  moved  on  through  the  clouds. 

Tonty  awoke  at  daybreak  and  stood  up 
weak  and  giddy,  looking  first  at  the  pallet 
on  the  other  side  of  the  sylvan  hearth. 
A  stiff  small  figure  was  covered  there, 
and  Boisrondet  was  stretched  beside  it  face 
downward  on  the  ground. 


THE  LITTLE  RENAULT.  151 

"  The  poor  little  lad !  "  groaned  Tonty, 
coming  down  on  one  knee  and  lifting  a 
blanket  edge.  "When  did  he  die,  Bois- 
rondet  ? " 

Without  moving  Boisrondet  said  from 
the  ground :  — 

"  She  died  not  long  after  midnight." 

Her  face  in  its  pillow  of  black  curls  was 
a  marble  dream  of  gladness.  She  had  the 
wonderful  beauty  of  dead  children,  and 
Tonty  saw  her  as  a  dead  child  rather  than 
as  a  woman  triumphant  in  flawless  happi 
ness,  whose  uninhabited  face  smiled  on  at 
her  wondrous  fate.  She  had  seen  her  hero 
in  his  splendor  without  man-cruelty  and  pet- 
tiness.  The  world  had  been  a  good  place  to 
the  little  Eenault. 

Father  Ribourde  had  no  candles  to  put 
at  her  head  and  feet,  but  he  knelt  saying 
prayers  for  her  peace. 

The  day  was  chill  and  sullen,  and  occa 
sional  spatters  of  sleet  glazed  twigs  and 
grass  tufts.  Father  Membre  and  L'Espe- 
rance  silently  took  the  labors  of  the  camp 


152  TEE  LITTLE  RENAULT. 

upon  themselves.  They  dug  roots  to  add 
to  the  scant  breakfast,  and  brought  fuel. 
Boisrondet  made  no  response  to  priest  or 
commandant,  but  lay  on  the  ground  without 
eating  until  the  slate-gray  afternoon  began 
to  thicken. 

"  Boisrondet,"  then  said  Tonty,  stooping, 
and  taking  his  subaltern  by  the  shoulder, 
"  the  Indians  left  us  not  a  tool,  as  you 
know.  We  cannot  hollow  out  any  grave 
which  would  be  deep  enough  to  keep  the 
little  lad  from  the  wolves.'* 

Boisrondet  shivered  as  if  he  were  begin 
ning  to  feel  the  sleet  in  his  hair  and  on  the 
little  Renault's  blanket. 

"  We  shall  have  to  sink  him  in  the  river, 
Boisrondet.  Be  a  man." 

Boisrondet  rose  directly,  with  fierce  readi 
ness  to  do  the  thing  at  once  if  it  must  be 
done.  He  did  not  look  at  her  again,  but 
sat  under  a  tree  with  his  back  turned  while 
preparations  were  made. 

L'Esperance  brought  many  stones,  and 
the  priests  ballasted  and  wound  the  body  in 


THE  LITTLE  RENAULT.  153 

the  best  blankets  the  camp  afforded,  tying 
the  packet  well  with  buffalo  thongs.  They 
placed  it  in  the  canoe,  and  Tonty  called 
Boisrondet. 

Both  Recollets  stood  on  the  bank  repeat 
ing  prayers  while  Tonty  and  Boisrondet 
pulled  up  against  the  current.  The  river 
was  a  dull  monster,  but  a  greedy  one,  reach 
ing  for  its  prey  through  the  boat's  seams. 

"Will  this  do,  Boisrondet?"  appealed 
Tonty. 

44  Pull  a  little  farther,  monsieur.  I  can 
not  bear  it  yet." 

Tonty  with  his  single-handed  stroke  con 
tinued  to  help  hold  their  boat  against  the 
current. 

Three  times  they  pulled  up-stream  and 
floated  down  past  the  friars. 

"  Will  this  do,  Boisrondet  ? "  twice  re 
peated  Tonty.  Twice  the  answer  was :  — 

"  Monsieur,  I  cannot  bear  it  yet." 

The  commandant  avoided  gazing  at  Bois 
rondet' s  misery.  His  fraternal  gaze  dwelt 
on  the  blanket  chrysalis  of  the  little  Ke- 


154  THE  LITTLE  RENAULT. 

nault.  He  would  have  given  his  remain 
ing  hand  —  which  meant  his  future  career 
—  to  bring  back  the  boy's  life,  but  even  to 
his  large  sympathy  Boisrondet's  passion  was 
like  a  sealed  house.  It  had  been  impossible 
for  him  to  grasp  the  feminine  quality  in 
that  lad's  black  curls  and  flower-fresh  face. 

"  My  poor  Boisrondet,"  he  urged,  "  we 
must  have  the  courage  to  lift  the  little  lad 
and  do  for  him  what  he  would  do  for  us." 

"  Lad !  lad !  "  burst  out  the  other  with 
scoffing.  "  Always  lad  to  you  —  the  sweet 
est  woman  that  ever  drew  breath  !  "  His 
voice  broke  down,  and  he  distorted  his  face, 
sobbing  aloud. 

Tonty  broke  down  and  sobbed  with  him. 
They  arose  with  a  desperate  impulse  to 
gether,  the  man  she  loved  and  the  other 
man  who  loved  her,  lifted  their  heavy  bur 
den,  poised,  swung,  and  threw  it  out  upon 
the  water.  It  smote  the  river  and  sank, 
and  their  canoe  reeled  with  the  splashing 
and  surging  of  a  disturbed  current.  Tonty 
staggered  and  sat  down  gripping  the  sides 


THE  LITTLE  RENAULT.  155 

of  the  boat,  feeling  his  wound  start  afresh. 
Nature's  old  sigh  swept  across  the  wind- 
harp  of  treetops.  The  river  composed 
itself  and  again  moved  steadily,  perhaps 
rocking  the  packet  in  some  pebbly  hollow, 
perhaps  passing  it  on  towards  the  Missis 
sippi,  And  the  priests'  voices  concluded 
their  monotone  for  the  dead. 

"  Heaven  give  him  sweet  rest  in  this 
river  of  the  Illinois  !  "  uttered  Tonty.  But 
Boisrondet  said  nothing  more. 

When  the  canoe  touched  the  bank  Bois 
rondet  took  his  gun  and  hurried  into  the 
woods.  He  did  not  come  back  at  night 
fall  or  in  the  morning.  The  others  at  first 
respected  his  quest  after  comfort.  Then 
they  searched  for  him,  discharging  their 
guns,  and  calling.  Yet  one  more  day  they 
waited  for  him,  the  weather's  increasing 
bitterness  threatening  instant  winter. 

When  they  finally  broke  camp  the  worth 
less  boat  had  to  be  abandoned.  Each  man 
made  up  his  little  pack  of  necessaries.  The 
little  Eenault  lay  in  the  Illinois.  Either 


156  THE   LITTLE  RENAULT. 

Boisrondet's  scalp  hung  before  some  savage 
wigwam,  or  he  had  hidden  himself  to  die  in 
the  depths  of  the  wilderness.  They  could 
only  take  their  fate  in  their  hands  —  as  we 
must  all  do  —  and  toil  on  towards  the  great 
lake. 


14  DAY  USE 

RETURN  TO  DESK  FROM  WHICH  BORROWED 
LOAN  DEPT. 

This  book  is  due  on  the  last  date  stamped  below,  or 

on  the  date  to  which  renewed. 
Renewed  books  are  subject  to  immediate  recall. 


room  tvw 

RECTD  LD 

MAY  22  ^§"2 

_    „  /nr>~  i  n  *" 

Relumed  by 

JUN  3     198?, 


Sontq  Cru?  Jitngy.  \ 


1 1  IN 


General  Library 
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